THE 

Amanda  M.    Douglas  Novels 

A  New,  Illustrated  Edition,  with  Picture  Wrappers  in  Photo, 
gravure,  at  Popular  Price    Twenty-four  Titles     Each  $.60 

*-  BETHIA  WRAY'S  NEW  NAME 

CLAUDIA 
^  FLOYD  GRANDON'S  HONOR 

FOES  OF  HER  HOUSEHOLD 
^THE  FORTUNES  OF  THE  FARADAYS 

FROM  HAND  TO  MOUTH 

THE  HEIRS  OF  BRADLEY  HOUSE 

HER  PLACE  IN  THE  WORLD 

HOME  NOOK 

HOPE  MILLS 

IN  THE  KING'S  COUNTRY 

IN  TRUST 
>IN  WILD  ROSE  TIME 

LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY 

A  MODERN  ADAM  AND  EVE 

NELLY  KINNARD'S  KINGDOM 

OLD  WOMAN  WHO  LIVED  IN  A  SHOE 
^OSBORNE  OF  ARROCHAR 

OUT  OF  THE  WRECK 

SEVEN  DAUGHTERS 

STEPHEN  DANE 

SYDNIE  ADRIANCE 

WHOM  KATHIE  MARRIED 

A  WOMAN'S  INHERITANCE 


LOTHROP,    LEE    &    SHEPARD    CO. 

BOSTON 


K\KI:V  THOUGHT  SHRANK  ix  HKPI-LSIOX  FROM  THIS  YOUNG  MAN. 
Page  365. 


LOST  IN  A  GREAT 
CITY 


BY 


AMANDA    M.    DOUGLAS 


FRONTISPIECE   BY   JOHN   GOSS 


BOSTON 
LOTHROP,  LEE  &  SHEPARD  CO. 


COPYRIGHT,  1880,  BY  LEE  AND  SHEPARD 
COPYRIGHT,  1908,  BY  AMANDA  M.  DOUGLAS 


All  Rights  Reserved 


LOST  IN   A  GRBAT  CITY 


TO 

CARRIE  GREENHALGH  COLYER, 

FOR  THE   KINDLY  INTEREST  EVINCED  IN 
MY  LITTLE    HEROINE; 

TOR  THE  SINCERE  AND  PLEASANT  FRIENDSHIP  THAT  HAS  BLOSSOMED 

OUT    OP    A    CHANCE    ACQUAINTANCE, 

ALLOW  ME  TO 

DEDICATE    THIS   STORY   TO    TOUt 

AS   A   CHRISTMAS   GIFT. 
lOSEVILUt,  1880,  A.  M.  D. 


2135S22   ' 


CONTENTS. 


I.  A  WAIF  OF  FORTUNE        ..«..«  7 

II.  Is  A  HOSPITAL  WARD        ......  17 

III.  TIM  CHAFNEY'S  PRIZE .80 

IV.  THE  FIRST  LINK         .......  42 

V.  MOTHER  MELL'S  STRATAGEM     „        .        .  60 

VI.     BAFFLED 62 

VII.  INTO  CAPTIVITY           .*.....  70 

VIII.    HER  MASTER 80 

IX.    THE  VICTORY  OF  DESPAIR 91 

X.    TITANIA 104 

XI.     THE  QUEEN  OF  THE  RING 114 

XII.  ON  THIS  SIDE  QUEENIE,  ON  THAT  SIDE  DICK         .  129 

XIII.  HER  SHARE  OF  THE  SPOILS       .  142 

XIV.  THE  CLANK  OF  THE  CHAIN 155 

XV.     A  BOND  SLAVE 166 

XVI.  "  WE  ARE  so  TIRED,  MY  HEART  AHD  I  *         .        .178 

XVII.  MOVING  ON  TO  THE  NEXT  ......  195 

XVIII.  PALACE  OR  PRISON     .......  209 

XIX.    ON  THE  TRACK 223 

XX.     Miss  MADEIRA 240 

XXI.     HOME  AND  LOVE 253 

XXII.  A  BREATH  OF  HAPPINESS  .......  265 

XXIII.  TWINS  AND  TROUBLE          .        .        .        .        .        .  274 

XXIV.  So  NEAR,  AND  YET  so  FAR       .        .        •        •        •  287 
XXV.  THE  QUEEN  OF  THE  HOUSEHOLD       .        •        •        •  800 

XXVI.  MISFORTUNES                                                    .         ,         ,  812 


t) 


CONTENTS. 


XXVII.  A  NEW  FRIEND  AND  A  TRUE  FRIEND         .        ,  824 

XXVIII.  AMID  THE  LIGHTS         ......  18 

XXIX.  FOR  LOVE'S  SAKE 847 

XXX.  THISTLES  THAT  BROUGHT  FORTH  GRAPES     .        .  860 

XXXI.  A  BRAVE  LOVER 871 

XXXII.  Is  IT  Too  LATE? 882 

XXXIII.  AN  UNKNOWN  RIVAI,    ......  896 

XXXIV.  MADAME  GRENVILLE'S  FORTUNATE  MOTE    .        .  409 
XXXV.  ROGER'S  QUEST 420 

XXXVI.  IF  I  COULD  WIN  YOU  BACK!        ....  434 

XXXVII.  MADAME  GRENVILLE'S  LAST  STAKB      .        .        .  448 

XXXVIII.  QUEEN  OF  HIS  HBAKT 460 


LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 


CHAPTER  L 

A  WA1P  OP  FORTUNE. 

*  Birr  I  am  so  afraid,  Maggie !  The  horses  are  so  large, 
and  those  great  wagons  and  all  the  people  t  Oh,  I  can't, 
I  can't!" 

a  Catch  tight  hold  of  my  dress,  so.  And  don't  yon  re- 
member that  I  told  you  I  was  to  be  your  mamma  now?" 

"You  are  not  my  mamma,  Maggie!"  and  the  child 
threw  back  her  head  with  a  proud,  indignant  gesture,  as 
if  some  right  of  birth  asserted  itself  unconsciously.  "  You 
are  my  own  dear  mamma's  nurse-maid,  and  I  cannot  call 
you  anything  but  just  Maggie.  My  mamma  is  in  heaven, 
and  I  can  never  have  another  one.** 

As  she  stood  there  on  one  of  the  down-town  corners  of 
Broadway,  she  made  a  noticeable  picture.  A  rarely  beau- 
tiful child  of  seven  years,  though  small  for  her  age,  shaped 
with  exquisite  symmetry,  slender,  yet  not  thin,  with  a  cer- 
tain supple  gracefulness  characterizing  every  movement, 
and  not  less  remarkable  in  her  present  pose.  The  com- 
plexion  was  of  a  peculiar  pearly  tint ;  her  hair  pale  golden, 
abundant,  and  waving  over  her  shoulders  a  rippling  mass. 
A  child  with  the  impress  of  birth  and  breeding,  young  as 
she  was ;  and  one  would  guess  instantly  that  the  neat, 
common-place  woman  beside  her  could  be  of  no  kin,  and 
that  she  was  used  to  occupying  the  position  of  an  inferior, 

7 


f  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CTT7. 

while  the  little  lady  had  about  her  an  unmistakable,  but 
not  unpleasant  air  of  authority. 

There  was  a  surge  of  vehicles  just  then  that  rendered 
Broadway  impassable  for  the  moment,  so  Maggie,  her 
hands  full  of  parcels,  turned,  rather  vexed  at  the  child's 
pertinacity  and  lack  of  courage. 

"I  should  like  to  know  what  you  would  do  without 
me  ?"  she  inquired  sharply.  **  Suppose  you  were  left  here 
in  the  street  to  starve,  or  a  policeman  took  you  up  to  the 
Island  where  they  put  children  when  their  fathers  and 
mothers  die,  —  hundreds  of  little  girls  like  you,—  and  they 
get  more  cuffs  than  kisses,  too,  I  can  tell  you!  You  might 
a  great  deal  better  have  me  for  a  mamma!** 

"But  I  can't,  Maggie,  don't  you  see?"  and  a  long,  dry 
sob  burst  up  from  her  chest.  WI  will  be  good,  and  do 
whatever  you  tell  me,  only  I  cannot  say  mamma  to  any 
one.  It  would  break  my  heart  I  And  my  dear  mamma  in 
beaven  would  not  like  it,  I  am  sore.  She  never  had  any 
little  girl  but  just  me.** 

tt  There,  come  along  now,**  was  the  rather  impatient  re- 
joinder, as  there  was  a  lull  in  the  busy  stream,  a  break  in 
the  endless  procession.  **  Keep  tight  hold  of  my  dress 
until  we  get  clear  across,  and  nothing  will  hurt  you. 
Come  —  don't  be  afraid!" 

The  woman  hugged  her  parcels  closer,  and  saw  that  the 
child  did  as  she  was  bidden.  They  had  achieved  half  of 
their  perilous  journey  in  safety,  when,  glancing  up,  the 
child  saw  the  great  head  of  a  horse  above  her,  to  her  vivid 
imagination  as  fierce  as  the  wolf  that  threatened  Little  Red 
Riding-hood.  A  sudden  terror  took  possession  of  her,  and 
with  one  scream  she  fled  in  wild  affright  back  to  the  curb- 
stone from  whence  she  had  started.  There  was  a  dreadful 
din  in  her  ears,  a  sea  of  strange  faces  around  her.  Panic- 
stricken,  she  ran  on  and  on,  breathless,  frightened  beyond 
reason,  and  at  every  step  plunging  farther  into  an  unknown 
country. 


9 

She  did  not  dare  cross  any  street,  so  following  the  side' 
walk  brought  her  back  again  to  Broadway.  Then  her  un- 
reasoning terror  began  to  be  replaced  by  anxiety.  Where 
was  Maggie?  How  could  she  get  over  to  her?  She 
glanced  up  and  down,  and  the  strange  faces  frightened 
her.  What  should  she  do? 

A  big,  good-natured-looking  errand-boy  noticed  her  per- 
plexity,  and  halted. 

"What's  the  matter,  Sis?"  he  asked  in  a  roughly  pleas* 
ant  tone.  tt  Want  to  get  across?  " 

a  Yes,"  was  the  timid  rejoinder. 

•Where  are  you  going?" 

** Maggie  is  over  there  waiting  for  me? "she  answered, 
with  the  dignity  of  a  queen. 

tt  Oh !    Well,  give  us  your  hand." 

It  was  such  a  white,  dainty  hand  that  he  felt  awed  by 
the  sight  of  it.  Then  obeying  a  sudden  impulse,  he  picked 
her  up  in  his  arms  and  ran  across,  putting  her  down  again 
carefully. 

"I  am  much  obliged  to  you,"  she  said,  graciously. 

"But  where  is  — what  did  you  call  her— Maggie?"  and 
he  looked  wonderingly  around. 

"I  can  find  her.  Good-morning;"  and  she  courtesied 
with  womanly  gravity. 

**  What  a  little  beauty!"  and  he  stared  sharply  after  her 
as  the  white  dress  and  golden  hair  rippled  in  the  sunshine. 
Then  he  remembered  his  errand,  and  went  his  way  like 
one  dazed.  Already  her  sad  and  fatal  empire  of  attraction 
had  begun. 

She  walked  on  with  wild,  wondering  eyes,  catching  her 
breath  in  gasps ;  then  a  gray  dress  flitted  before  her  in  the 
distance,  surmounted  by  a  hat  with  black  ribbons.  She 
quickened  her  pace,  —  ran,  indeed, —  crossed  the  next 
street  without  a  single  flutter,  and  finally  came  up  with 
the  woman. 

"Maggie I  wait,  Maggie ! "  and  she  clutched  the  dress. 


10  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

The  person  turned — a  girl  of  eighteen,  with  a  coarse, 
flippant  face. 

"I'm  not  your  Maggie — nor  any  one^s  servant.  What 
do  you  want  ?  n 

"Nothing;  "and  the  child  shrank  back, her  lip  quiver- 

ing  piteously. 

"  A  high  compliment,  I  declare,  to  be  taken  for  a  nurse- 
maid ! "  and  the  young  woman  tossed  her  head  angrily. 

The  child  went  on.  Now  and  then  a  figure  in  the  dis- 
tance led  her  astray,  and  she  plunged  hither  and  thither. 
The  crowd  seemed  to  grow  less,  the  tramping  horses  and 
wagons  did  not  form  such  an  unbroken  procession.  But 
the  day  became  warmer,  and  she  grew  very  tired.  Her 
little  feet  ached,  her  temples  throbbed,  her  heart  fluttered 
with  an  alarm  that  was  rapidly  turning  awesome.  She 
tried  to  think,  but  her  small  brain  was  a  chaos  of  con- 
fusion. 

She  dropped  down  on  a  step  in  a  shady  corner.  Near 
by  an  old  woman  sat  dozing  at  an  apple-stand,  with  a 
dingy  green  umbrella  over  her  head.  Her  clothes  were 
shabby,  her  face  wrinkled,  and  browned  with  the  sun, 
wind,  and  perhaps  lack  of  washing,  and  flecks  of  snuff 
sprinkled  her  protruding  chin.  Yet  she  had  a  rather 
kindly  expression,  and  the  child  recalled  some  of  the  old 
women  in  the  wonderful  stories  that  her  mamma  used  to 
read  to  her. 

The  apple-woman  nodded  to  herself  keeping  one  eye 
half  open. 

"I  knows  'em,"  she  mumbled.  «A-lookin*  like  angels, 
aY  's  if  butter  wouldn't  melt  in  their  mouths,  and  when 
y>er  back's  turned  they'll  grab  an'  run.  No,  my  purty  kid, 
you  don't  come  that  game  on  me ! " 

But  as  the  old  woman  watched,  the  child  leaned  against 
the  side  of  the  building,  and,  quite  overcome  with  heat, 
fatigue,  and  anxiety,  the  little  head  began  to  droop,  the 
eyelids  to  quiver,  the  hands  folded  in  her  lap  were  motion- 


A  WAIF  OP  FORTUNE.  11 

less.  Sleep  had  overtaken  her.  Now  and  then  some 
passer-by  stared  at  the  vision  of  loveliness,  and  gave  a 
sharp  glance  at  the  apple-woman.  It  was  no  one's  busi- 
ness. Children  are  not  so  great  a  rarity  in  a  crowded 
city. 

An  hour  or  two  passed  before  she  woke,  and  then  she 
started  up  in  sudden  affright.  Oh,  where  was  she  1  How 
did  she  come  in  this  strange  place  —  alone ! 

The  old  apple-woman  was  moved.  She  hobbled  to  the 
step,  attracted  by  the  look  of  helpless  innocence. 

tt  Where'd  you  live,  Sissy?"  she  asked  in  a  shrill,  cracked 
voice. 

The  child  rubbed  her  eyes  in  the  utmost  bewilderment, 
and  instinctively  shrank  away. 

**  Where  be  yer  goin',  then  ?  Ain't  lost  nor  notliin',  be 
yer  ?  "  and  she  peered  curiously  in  the  sweet  face. 

**I  don't  know,"  hesitatingly.  "I  am  trying  to  find 
Maggie.  She  went  across  the  street  —  " 

**  But  ye've  bin  here  a  good  hour,  asleep." 

The  child  swallowed  a  sob  resolutely,  and  winked  the 
tears  out  of  her  eyes. 

"Come,  hev  a  cake  or  an  apple!  Yer  party  as  a  pink. 
Where's  yer  mammy?" 

u  Mamma  is  dead,  and  papa  is  ever  so  far  away  across 
the  ocean.  But  I  want  Maggie ! w 

**An*  I'm  sure  I  don't  know  nothin'  about  her.  Here, 
take  this  apple,  and  chirk  up  a  bit.  Where  did  Maggie 
cross  the  street  ?  w 

**  It  was  on  Broadway." 

"Hi!  but  you're  a  piece  from  Broadway!  This  is  the 
Bowery,  my  dear.  Long  ago  there  used  to  be  bowers  in 
it,  an'  lads  an'  lasses  courtin*.  Don't  look  much  like  it 
now ! "  and  the  old  woman  chuckled.  tt  There,  my  purty ! 
won't  yer  hev  a  cake  ?  " 

She  picked  up  one,  and  brushed  off  the  dust.  The  child 
hesitated  from  natural  fastidiousness ;  then  her  well-trained 


12  LOST  IN   A  GREAT  CITY. 

courtesy,  joined  with  the  pangs  of  hunger,  impelled  her  to 
accept. 

tt  I  thank  you  very  much,"  she  said,  proudly.  **  Now  I 
%mst  go  and  find  Maggie." 

"  Where  do  yer  live  ?" 

"  With  Maggie's  cousin,"  was  the  dignified  answer. 

"But  what's  her  name,  and  where's  the  street?" 

"Her  name  is  Mrs.  Brown.  It  is  —  you  go  through 
Broadway,  and  up  ever  so  many  stairs." 

"Yer  lost,  child,  that  what's  the  matter.  Now  you  jest 
wait  'til  a  p'leceman  comes  along,  and  we'll  tell  him.  He'll 
take  yer  ter  station-house,  and  there  yer'll  be  snug  as  a 
bug  in  a  rug  'til  yer  folks  come  to  find  yer  I" 

That  thought  roused  the  child's  terror  again.  The 
policeman  would  take  her  to  the  dreaded  island  Maggie 
had  spoken  of,  and  then  she  might  not  see  her  dear  papa 
when  he  came.  Perhaps  she  had  been  very  naughty  not 
to  call  Maggie  mamma.  If  she  could  go  straight  to  her 
mamma  in  heaven!  Did  people  always  have  to  be  cov- 
ered in  a  box,  and  put  in  the  ground,  she  wondered  1 

tt  I  had  better  try  to  find  Maggie,"  she  said  with  sudden 
strength  and  resolution.  Then  a  flush  of  embarrassment 
overspread  her  face  as  she  added, "  I  should  like  to  pay  you 
for  the  cake,  but  I  have  no  money.  I  will  ask  Maggie  to 
do  it  to-morrow." 

"Never  you  mind,  my  chicken.  Fm  a  poor  old  body,  to 
be  sure,  but  I  don't  grudge  a  bite  to  a  stray.  An*  if  you 
don't  find  her,  come  back,  an*  we'll  do  the  best  we  can." 

"Thank  you." 

"Ye'r  welcome  fer  the  sake  of  yer  purty  face.  Now 
d'  think  yer  can  find  her  ?  I'm  afeard  —  that's  to  Broad- 
way, and  may  the  saints  attind  ye,  —  for  sure  they'd  be 
main  cruel  if  they  didn't!" 

Our  poor  little  waif  turned  in  the  right  direction,  but 
did  not  keep  it  long,  bewildered  by  the  strangeness  of  her 
surroundings.  A  little  girl  lost  in  a  great  city,  too  timid 


A  WAIF  OF  FORTUNE.  13 

to  ask,  and  peering  cautiously  into  women's  faces  to  find 
some  trace  of  her  lost  nurse  1  She  wiped  away  her  tears 
quietly  as  she  went  on  with  uncertain  step. 

And  now  the  streets  began  to  fill  with  people  again. 
There  was  a  jostling  and  hurrying,  cries  of  newsboys, 
laughing  shrieks  of  children,  rattling  of  wagons,  jangling 
of  car-bells,  the  jargon  of  slang,  interspersed  with  profan- 
ity, the  strange  tongues,  and  noisy  hubbub.  No  wonder 
she  shrank  away,  not  even  daring  to  look  wide-eyed  and 
wistful. 

Here  limbs  ached,  and  her  feet  were  sore.  Oh,  what 
could  she  do  I  "Maggie!  "she  cried,  softly;  "Maggie!" 
but  only  the  babel  of  confusion  answered  her.  Sobs 
shook  her  slender  frame,  and  now  the  tears  fell  fast. 

She  had  wandered  by  this  time  to  the  festering  by-ways 
of  the  city.  The  vile  odors  sickened  the  child,  so  long 
used  to  fragrant  country  air.  The  streets  were  heaps  of 
filth;  the  sidewalk  swarmed  with  dirty  children.  Some 
one  caught  her  roughly,  another  jeered  at  her,  a  tongue 
was  thrust  almost  into  her  face,  and  she  found  herself  sur- 
rounded by  a  mocking  crowd. 

tt  Ain't  I  fine !  Ain't  I  fine !  Fm  goin'  to  the  ball,  I  am. 
Say,  Sis,  lend  me  your  button  boots !  oh  my,  white  kid ! 
Look  at  me ! n  and  the  girl,  about  her  own  size,  picked  up 
her  filthy,  tattered  skirts,  and  wriggled  about  with  the  airs 
of  a  would-be  fine  lady. 

"Lem  me  yer  sash,  won't  yer?  Why  didn't  yer  have 
red  —  that's  all  the  style  ?" 

"  How  much  for  yer  wig,  Sis  ?  * 

"  I  say,  gim'me  a  penny !  You've  got  lots  in  your  pock- 
ets, I  know,  and  a  goold  ring  on  your  finger  —  " 

"  Oh,  I  know ! "  shrieked  another.  "  She  dances  at  the 
theaytre.  Look  at  the  gold  chain  on  her  neck ! " 

She  turned  from  one  to  another,  and  beheld  only  a  group 
of  mocking,  cruel  faces.  The  grand  virtues  of  pity  and 
mercy  seldom  course  in  the  blood  of  street  Arabs,  who  are 


14  LOST  IN   A   GREAT  CITY. 

trained  by  the  stern  instincts  of  self-preservation  to  raise 
their  hand  against  every  one,  and  too  often  to  lead  the 
attack.  Brown,  handsome  creatures,  some  of  them,  under 
the  dirt  and  rags ;  but  with  the  limbs  of  infant  gods,  they 
united  the  foul  fierceness  of  fiends,  for  brutes  are  rarely  so 
cruel. 

Hounded  thus,  shivering  with  terror,  weak  and  helpless 
against  her  tormentors,  she  gave  one  wild,  piercing  cry, 
and  sprang  at  them  as  if  to  force  a  way  through  with  her 
small  white  hands. 

"  Hillo !  What's  all  this  row?"  exclaimed  a  coarse  but 
not  unfriendly  voice.  "Teddy  McGinnis,  what  are  you 
doing  here  in  a  crowd  of  girls  I n  and  a  well-directed  cuff 
sent  the  urchin  sprawling.  "  Liz  Levy,  you  let  that  young 
nn  alone  or  I'll  smash  your  mug !  What  are  you  all  doing 
to  her?" 

The  crowd  fell  back.  Tim  Chafhey  was  not  to  be 
braved  in  any  street  encounter,  as  these  little  roughs  knew 
to  their  sorrow. 

«  Oh,  save  me !  save  me  1 "  the  child  shrieked,  throwing 
herself  in  his  arms. 

An  angry  woman  rushed  oat  and  caught  one  of  the  rag- 
amuffins  by  the  hair  of  her  head,  and  hustled  her  up  an 
alley  way. 

"What  did  you  do  to  her  ?"  demanded  the  champion. 
"Be  off,  or  I'll  break  your  heads?  Now,  what  is  it,  poor 
little  thing  ?  How  did  you  come  here  ?  n 

She  was  sobbing  so  hysterically  that  she  could  not  utter 
a  word,  yet  she  clung  to  him  with  frantic  desperation. 

"You're  lost,  I 'spose—  that's  the  trouble.  Shall  I  take 
you  to  a  station-house,  or  will  you  tell  me.  You're  a  sight 
too  nice  to  live  in  these  holes,  or  even  in  Kelly's  palace,"— 
with  a  broad  grin.  «  How  did  you  get  here  ?  " 

"  I  wa— wa— want  Maggie  1 "  she  sobbed. 

"And  who's  Maggie?  There,  don't  cry  so!  Come, 
we'll  get  out  of  this  beastly  hole.  Now  tell  me  all  about 


A   WAIF   OF   FORTUNE.  15 

jtl  Who's  your  dad,  and  where  does  he  hang  out  f  He 
must  be  a  reg'lar  buster!'*  eyeing  her  with  curious  sur- 
prise. 

"  I  want  Maggie !  I  lost  her  when  we  went  to  cross  the 
street  —  Broadway.  And  I've  looked,  and  looked.  Oh, 
what  shall  I  do?" 

"  She  wasn't  your  mammy,  of  course  ?" 

"  No.  My  mamma  is  in  heaven  with  the  angels.  Mag- 
gie was  mamma's  maid,  and  we  came  to  New  York  for 
papa,  who  is  way  across  the  sea.n 

Tim  Chafney  looked  puzzled. 

"  When  did  you  come  to  New  York?* 

«  On  Tuesday." 

"And  you  was  crossing  Broadway!  How  ever  did  you 
get  way  over  here  ?  I'd  best  hunt  up  a  peeler." 

"A — what?"  in  wild-eyed  terror. 

«*P'liceman  —  " 

tt  Oh,  don't !  don't ! "  she  implored,  hysterically. 

"  What  then  ?  will  you  go  home  with  me  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes.  Take  me !  I  will  be  so  good.  I  will  stop 
crying  right  away  —  only  —  I  cannot  help  it.  It  all  comes 
up  in  my  throat,  and  I'm  so  tired.  And  then  you'll  go 
iook  for  Maggie  ?  " 

How  beseeching  the  little  voice  sounded,  broken  with 
convulsive  sobbing. 

"You  poor  little  kid!  I'm  afraid  I  couldn't  find  her 
to-night ;  but  I'll  take  you  home,  and  then  we  will  see  in 
the  morning." 

"You  will  not  let  any  one  hurt  me,  I  know,"  with  trust- 
ing eagerness. 

"You  may  bet  your  head  on  that!  Come,  chip  up  a 
bit.  This  way,  —  it's  not  far." 

Then  Tim  Chafney  suddenly  plunged  his  remaining 
hand  into  his  pocket,  and  himself  into  a  thoughtful  mood, 
and  gave  a  long,  low  whistle.  Mother  Mell  was  not 
always  in  a  serene  mood,  and  at  times  somewhat  free  with 


1(3  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

her  bony  knuckles.    And  Tim's  father  was  rather  tricky 
but  then  what  could  he  do  to  a  little  girl  who  could  not 
be  robbed  or  cheated  at  cards,  nor  even  made  drunk,  and 
important  secrets  wormed  out  of  her  ? 

Then  he  took  a  curious  survey  of  his  protege.  The 
dainty  white  dress  was  sadly  tumbled  and  soiled,  but 
there  was  a  style  to  it  quite  different  from  the  tawdry 
finery  the  women  in  Tim's  circle  displayed.  And  though 
her  eyes  were  swollen,  and  her  face  flushed  with  weeping, 
she  was  still  lovely,  —  something  above  Tim's  comprehen- 
sion, and  he  suddenly  felt  ashamed  to  offer  her  the  hospi- 
talities of  his  dingy  abode. 

u  But  then  it's  only  for  one  night,"  he  ruminated.  «  To- 
morrow I'll  hunt  up  her  folks.  Poor  thing  I  She  wasn't 
meant  to  take  life  rough-and-tumble,  as  we  do.  And  so 
her  mammy's  dead — " 

"I'm  so  tired,"  she  said;  and  the  weary  little  face 
turned  toward  him  with  touching  wistfulness. 

"We'll  soon  be  there,  and  you  shall  have  some  supper. 
How  long  ago  were  you  lost  ?  " 

^ «  This  morning.  We  went  out  after  breakfast,  and  Mag. 
gie  bought  such  nice  bananas!  Oh,  my  dear  Maggie  1" 
and  the  child  began  to  weep  afresh. 


TM   A   HOSPITAL   WARD.  17 


CHAPTER  IL 

IN  A  HOSPITAL  WAED. 

MEANWHILE,  what  had  befallen  Maggie?  She  heard  a 
cry  and  missed  the  tug  at  her  skirt,  and  turned  to  see  a 
flash  as  of  a  skimming  swallow,  then  an  omnibus  hid  it. 
Stupified,  she  did  not  notice  the  span  of  horses  coming 
down,  and  the  indecision,  of  the  moment  was  fatal.  The 
pole  struck  her,  the  horses  trampled  her  under  their  feet, 
then  were  jerked  up  suddenly  by  the  driver,  and  the  car- 
riage stopped. 

"  Oh,  what  has  happened  ?"  cried  the  lady  occupant. 

"  I  will  see ; "  and  the  gentleman  sprang  out. 

The  girl  lay  bleeding  and  insensible.  The  coachman  and 
jJTr.  Byington  were  at  once  surrounded  by  a  throng  of  cu- 
tious  pedestrians,  and  a  policeman  made  his  appearance. 

"I'm  awfully  sorry,"  declared  the  coachman.  "She 
dodged  right  under  the  horses  heads,  though  I  jerked  them 
np  in  a  flash." 

"Not  killed,  is  she?" 

"  Bring  her  to  the  sidewalk.* 

"Take  her  to  the  nearest  drug  store,"  commanded  Mr. 
Byington.  "I  hold  myself  responsible  for  the  poor  thing's 
injuries." 

They  picked  her  up  carefully,  and  a  gaping  crowd  fol- 
lowed. 

His  wife  leaned  out  of  the  window,  while  he  made  a  brief 
explanation,  then  ordered  the  carriage  to  follow  him.  When 
they  reached  the  drug  store  she  summoned  her  husband. 

"Edward,"  she  said  sympathetically,  "have  the  unfortu 
Date  creature  taken  to  St.  Luke's  Hospital.     We  know  she 
o 


18  LOST  IN  A  GREAT   CITY. 

will  have  the  best  of  care,  and  I  cannot  bear  to  think  oi 
her  being  huddled  into  any  overcrowded  public  place." 

"I  will  see  to  it,"  he  made  answer. 

The  crowd  was  peremptorily  dismissed.  The  woman 
being  removed  to  an  inner  apartment  an  examination  was 
speedily  made.  One  arm  was  broken  and  the  flesh  much 
mangled.  A  cut  just  at  the  edge  of  her  forehead,  a  bruise 
on  her  cheek,  and,  it  was  feared,  some  internal  injuries  as 
she  remained  insensible  so  long. 

The  officer  had  gathered  up  her  parcels  and  her  reticule. 
Mr.  Byington  searched  it,  as  well  as  her  pocket-book,  but 
no  clue  to  her  address  was  found. 

"  I  wish  her  taken  to  St.  Luke's  Hospital,"  he  said  at 
length.  "  Present  this  card  and  there  will  be  no  delay. 
To-morrow  Mrs.  Byington  will  visit  her,  and  everything  in 
our  power  will  be  done.  Lift  her  carefully,  poor  thing." 

He  re-entered  the  carriage  and  imparted  the  meagre  facts 
to  his  wife. 

"I  suppose  she  was  alone,  then!  Why  will  people  never 
learn  to  carry  a  card  with  their  name  and  address !  But 
we  may  be  able  to  discover  her  friends  as  soon  as  she  re- 
turns to  reason.  I  only  hope  there  are  no  little  ones  at 
home  watching  and  waiting  for  their  mother." 

When  Margaret  Donald  returned  to  thorough  conscious- 
ness she  had  been  an  inmate  of  the  hospital  ten  days,  suf- 
fering from  congestion  and  fever,  and  though  her  kind 
nurses  had  not  actually  despaired  of  her  life,  still  she  had 
lain  in  a  very  critical  state.  The  cut  and  bruises  had 
mended,  and  there  was  only  the  broken  arm. 

"  Where  am  I  ?  "  she  asked  in  a  feeble  tone. 

The  low  voiced  sisters  briefly  explained. 

«*Ten  days!"  she  exclaimed  in  a  tone  of  anguish,  start- 
ing up  wildly.  « Oh,  my  God!  what  has  become  of  Elsi- 
nore  —  my  darling  Miss  Nora ! " 

"  Hush ;  you  must  not  excite  yourself  in  this  manner,' 
was  the  soft  entreaty.  "  One  of  our  patrons,  Mrs.  Bying- 


IN  A   HOSPITAL  WARD.  19 

ton,  had  yon  sent  here.  Their  carriage  accidently  ran  over 
you,  and  she  has  been  every  day  to  see  you." 

"  Did  she  take  Nora  ?  Tell  me  quick ! "  and  the  poor 
thing  clutched  the  nurse's  arm  in  frantic  eagerness,  staring 
out  of  feverish  eyes. 

"I  do  not  know,  though  I  think  it  probable.  She  will 
tell  you  when  she  comes.  There,  you  must  be  quiet,  or 
you  will  not  be  able  to  see  her." 

"When  will  it  be?"  and  the  tremulous  voice  was 
freighted  with  anxiety. 

"  At  three,  this  afternoon.  Try  to  compose  yourself  and 
be  patient." 

Margaret  turned  her  face  to  the  wall,  and  the  nurse  left 
her  presently.  But  there  was  no  quiet  for  the  newly- 
awakened  brain.  It  seemed  to  her  as  if  the  slow  moments 
would  never  count  up  their  accustomed  hours.  Like  a 
picture,  everything  came  back  to  her  up  to  the  moment 
when  she  had  seen  Nora  flying  wildly  back  to  the  opposite 
walk. 

The  lady  made  her  appearance  at  last.  A  sweet,  gracious- 
looking  person,  hardly  of  middle  age,  with  one  of  those 
finely-modulated,  soothing  voices. 

"Where  is  the  child?"  Maggie  almost  shrieked,  so 
wrought  up  had  her  nerves  become  in  the  interval.  "  The 
little  girl  who  was  with  me  that  fatal  day  ?" 

"  Little  girl ! "  and  Mrs.  Byington  glanced  at  her  in  the 
utmost  surprise.  "  Why,  you  were  quite  alone  when  they 
picked  you  up !  Oh,  surely,  it  was  not  your  child  ? "  she 
cried  anxiously. 

"  It  was  the  child  of  my  dead  mistress,  but  as  dear  to  me 
as  my  own  life.  Oh,  Nora !  Nora !  where  are  you  ?  I  must 
get  up  and  search.  Oh,  surely,  she  was  not  killed !  " 

"  She  was  not  killed ;  she  was  not  even  there,  I  am  quite 
sure.  Could  she  not  find  her  way  home,  or  to  some  friend  ? 
She  could  tell  where  she  lived,  —  or  was  she  too  young?" 

"She  did  not  know.     She  had  never  been  in  the  city 


20  LOST  IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 

before.  I  brought  her  here ;  I  was  to  wait  until  we  heard 
from  her  father.  Oh,  God  help  me  if  she  is  lost !  I  shall 
go  crazy." 

tt  Try  to  calm  yourself,  and  tell  me  the  story,"  said  Mrs. 
Byington,  in  a  voice  that  exercised  a  peculiar  power  over  the 
sick  woman.  "  We  can  advertise,  you  know,  and  search 
the  police  stations.  My  husband  will  do  everything  in  his 
power.  We  have  both  regretted  the  accident  so  deeply.'* 

"  But  she  may  have  starved  or  perished !  A  little  girl 
barely  seven,  and  so  unused  to  cities.  You  see  I  was  stay- 
ing with  my  cousin,  and  had  been  there  but  two  days, 
Oh,  heaven  keep  her!" 

a  If  you  will  collect  your  thoughts  and  give  me  a  de« 
scription  of  the  child,  we  will  have  advertisements  in  dif- 
ferent papers  to-morrow  morning.  First,  had  the  child 
any  jewelry,  or  rich  clothing?" 

"  Nothing  but  a  chain  and  cross  that  her  mother  always 
wore.  Her  portrait  is  at  my  cousin's ;  if  you  could  see 
that.  Oh,  what  will  Ellen  think ! " 

Margaret  Donald  broke  into  an  uncontrollable  fit  of 
weeping.  Mrs.  Byington  tried  to  calm  her,  and  at  length 
obtained  a  somewhat  coherent  account  of  the  situation,  and 
a  description  of  the  child. 

"  I  think  she  will  be  easily  found,"  was  the  reassuring 
rejoinder.  "  The  name  is  unusual,  and  she  is  old  enough  to 
tell  her  own  story.  Do  not  fear,  my  poor  girl,  I  will  drive 
to  your  cousin's  at  once,  and  explain  your  disappearance." 

"  Oh,  if  you  will ; "  and  the  wild  eyes  were  raised  with  an 
expression  of  fervent  gratitude.  « Tell  her  she  will  find 
the  locket  in  a  small  box,  inlaid  with  pearl,  nearly  at  the 
bottom  of  the  trunk.  It  belonged  to  my  dear  mistress. 
Oh,  my  darling,  my  child  that  I  loved  too  well!  Have  I 
failed  in  my  trust  through  that  very  love  ?  " 

"  We  shall  obtain  some  clue,  I  am  very  sure.  Strive  to 
be  composed  and  hopeful.  You  cannot  blame  yourself,  for 
It  seems  the  result  of  an  almost  unavoidable  accident  in  a 


IN  A   HOSPITAL  WARD.  21 

crowded  street.  I  know  my  coachman  is  one  of  the  most 
jonsiderate  drivers,  and  yet  I  feel  as  if  the  fault  was 
wholly  ours.  Depend  upon  our  doing  everything  in  our 
power." 

"  Oh,  thank  you,  thank  you ! "  said  she ;  and  the  sad,  wist- 
ful eyes  overflowed  with  tears. 

Sister  Agnes  was  summoned,  and  she  viewed  her  patient 
with  some  alarm. 

"  I  am  afraid  she  will  be  worse,'*  began  the  visitor,  "  but 
it  was  absolutely  necessary  that  we  should  have  this  con- 
versation.  She  has  a  great  anxiety  to  battle  with,  and 
everything  needful  must  be  done  for  her.  I  can  only  com- 
mend her  to  your  care,  and  the  wisdom  of  God."  Then, 
rising  — 

"  I  will  be  in  again  to-morrow,  as  usual,  with  some  good 
rews  I  hope." 

"  Drive  to  East  Tenth  Street,"  she  said  to  the  coachman 
as  she  entered  the  carriage. 

Ellen  Brown  occupied  a  floor  of  a  tenement  house,  in  a 
rather  dingy  brick  row. 

"Couldn't  I  do  the  errand  for  you  ma'am?"  asked 
Michael.  M  Perhaps  the  person  would  step  out." 

w  No,  I  must  go  in.  I  may  stay  some  fifteen  or  twenty 
minutes.  It  does  not  look  dangerous,"  and  Mrs.  Byington 
smiled. 

She  picked  her  way  up  to  the  third  floor.  The  place 
was  tolerably  clean  inside,  though  the  air  was  close  and 
not  over  fragrant.  Mrs.  Brown  was  at  home ;  a  nice,  tidy 
woman,  with  three  little  ones. 

She  had  been  almost  wild  with  anxiety  at  her  cousin's 
sudden  disappearance.  Margaret  and  the  child  had  only 
been  her  guests  for  three  days.  She  gave  a  minute  de- 
scription of  the  child,  and  together  they  searched  the 
trunk.  The  box  was  soon  discovered  and  inspected. 

"  What  a  lovely  child  1 "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Byington,  as 
Ellen  opened  the  locket. 


22  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

« Indeed  she  is.  That  was  taken  two  years  ago,  but  she 
is  hardly  as  large  now  as  my  Teddy,  and  he  isn't  six  yet. 
And  she's  so  shy  of  strangers,  the  little  thing !  Why,  it 
will  about  kill  her  to  be  lost,"  and  Mrs.  Brown  wiped  away 
a  tear. 

"I  must  drive  around  to  the  police  stations  at  once. 
There  is  not  a  moment  to  be  lost.  And  now,  Mrs.  Brown, 
if  you  can  find  the  time,  I  think  it  will  be  a  good  thing  for 
you  to  come  down  and  see  your  cousin.  I  am  deeply 
obliged  for  your  ready  assistance." 

"  Oh,  thank  you  ma'am,  don't  mention  it.  I  am  ready 
to  do  anything,  and  I'm  so  glad  to  hear  a  word  from  her. 
Poor  John  will  be  mightily  relieved." 

With  a  cordial  adieu,  Mrs.  Byington  went  back  to  her 
carriage.  From  thence,  till  night,  she  drove  from  one 
station  to  another,  and  received  telegrams ;  but  no  word  of 
any  stray  child  answering  her  description. 

Mr.  Byington  looked  very  grave  over  her  tidings,  as  she 
detailed  them  on  her  return. 

"  If  we  could  only  have  known  this  in  the  beginning ! " 
he  said.  "  The  child  may  have  fallen  into  bad  hands,  but 
I  think  a  liberal  reward  might  bring  her  to  light.  We  will 
hope,  at  least." 

Margaret  tossed  restlessly  upon  her  bed.  The  fever  had 
returned,  but  not  with  any  alarming  violence.  Still  her 
poor  brain  wandered,  and  she  lived  over  the  past,  so  recent 
and  so  sad.  One  picture  stood  out  more  boldly  than  the 
rest,  and  with  the  fatal  persistence  of  fever  she  went  over 
and  over  the  strange  incident. 

A  brilliant  June  afternoon  it  was.  She  had  obeyed  her 
mistress'  small  behests.  The  funeral  expenses  were  paid, 
the  furniture  sold,  the  two  trunks,  packed  and  strapped, 
standing  in  the  narrow  hall.  To-morrow  they  were  to  go 
to  New  York.  The  girl  sat  by  the  open  window  in  a 
thoughtful  mood,  while  little  Nora,  tired  out  with  weeping 
for  her  dead  mamma,  lay  asleep  in  the  next  room. 


IN  A  HOSPITAL  WARD.  23 

Margaret  was  startled  by  the  stopping  of  a  hack  before 
the  door.  Mechanically  she  rose  and  opened  it. 

"  Mrs.  Waldeburgh  lived  here  ?  "  the  man  asserted. 

"  She  did.  She  is  dead.  Perhaps  you  do  not  know  ?  " 
and  Maggie  studied  him  in  vague  surprise. 

"  That's  what  I  told  the  missus  in  my  hack.  But  she 
wanted  to  see  you  or  some  one." 

"  Very  well,  if  her  business  is  with  me." 

"  It's  all  right,"  he  exclaimed,  nodding  toward  the  hack, 
and  going  back  assisted  his  passenger,  who  stepped  to  the 
sidewalk  with  the  air  of  an  empress.  A  tall,  magnificent 
woman,  past  middle  life  perhaps,  but  still  retaining  the 
blooming  appearance  of  youth.  Her  dark  hair  was  scarcely 
threaded  by  silver,  her  complexion  was  fresh,  and  both 
face  and  figure  preserved  the  softly  rounded  contour  of 
beauty.  Her  hands  and  feet  were  exquisite.  Maggie  re- 
marked the  one  as  she  descended  the  carriage  steps,  and 
the  other  as  she  held  her  fan  and  parasol.  Who  could  she 
be? 

"  You  are  Mrs.  Waldeburgh's  housekeeper,  or  maid,  or 
attended  her  in  some  capacity  ? "  and  the  brilliant  hazel- 
eyes  startled  and  fascinated  Margaret  Donald. 

"  Yes,"  she  answered,  in  amazement. 

"  Then  I  have  found  the  right  person.  Driver,  come  for 
me  in  about  an  hour.  Do  not  fail." 

The  man  touched  his  hat  and  sprang  up  in  his  seat. 

"  Will  you  walk  in  ?  "  Maggie  asked  rather  timidly. 

"Certainly,  my  good  woman,  I  came  on  some  important 
business.  Are  we  quite  alone  ?  "  and  she  glanced  furtively 
around. 

"  Yes,  except  that  my  little  Miss  Nora  is  asleep  in  the 
next  room." 

"  Oh ! "  and  a  peculiar  expression  passed  over  the  hand- 
some face.  "  And  who  may  your  Miss  Nora  be,  pray  ?  " 

"  Mrs.  Waldeburgh's  little  girl  j "  and  Maggie  began  to 
eye  her  visitor  askance. 


U  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

«  Ah  I    What  is  her  age  ?  " 

"Seven,  but  she  Is  quite  small  She  hag  been  very 
rfelicate  until  the  last  year  or  two." 

"  Are  there  any  more  children  ?  " 

"No;  she  lost  two  little  boys  with  scarlet-fever  just 
before  I  came  to  her,  about  two  years  ago." 

"Do  you  know  anything  of  the  child's  father?" 

Maggie  hesitated.  What  was  to  be  the  result  of  all 
this  questioning? 

"  He  is  not  in  America,  I  think.  You  need  not  be  afraid 
to  speak  out.  Indeed,  you  may  be  perfectly  frank  with 
me.  I  am  an  old  friend  of  her  father's  family,  and  for 
their  sakes  I  wish  to  learn  a  few  of  the  particulars  respect- 
ing her." 

"  And  you  want  to  take  the  child  I "  cried  Maggie  in 
affright.  w  But  you  cannot.  My  mistress  gave  her  to  me 
to  keep  for  her  father." 

"  My  good  woman,  do  not  get  alarmed  so  easily.  No 
one  wants  the  child,  so  far  as  I  have  heard.  Perhaps 
you  may  know  that  your  mistress  married  against  her 
father's  wishes  —  was,  in  fact,  disinherited  for  her  disobe- 
dience?'* 

"She  had  a  — stepmother  — "  and  Maggie  glanced  up 
timidly. 

"Yes."  Not  a  tint  of  rising  color  or  embarrassment 
served  to  fasten  Maggie's  half-suspicion  on  the  superb 
woman  before  her,  who  fanned  herself  languidly,  filling  the 
air  with  the  pungent  perfume  of  sandal-wood.  "  But  I 
think  that  had  little  to  do  with  it.  The  man  was  a  penni- 
less adventurer,  passing  himself  off  as  some  German  or 
Italian  count  —  w 

"He  was  a  Hungarian,"  said  Maggie,  with  a  kind  of 
sturdy  truthfulness. 

"It  matters  little.  Miss  Grenville  might  have  chosen 
where  she  liked.  I  shall  not  spend  time  to  argue  minor 
points  —  she  chose  in  the  face  of  her  father's  prohibition, 


IN  A   HOSPITAL  WARD.  25 

and  left  her  home  with  this  fellow.  Indeed,  her  family  do 
not  believe  she  ever  was  married." 

"  But  she  was !  she  was ! "  exclaimed  Maggie  with  an 
indignant  flush.  "  I  have  seen  her  certificate." 

u  That  may  be,  too,"  with  an  imperious  gesture  of  the 
hand.  "  Such  a  thing  could  easily  be  forged,  you  know. 
Her  father  would  need  a  witness  to  convince  him  of  the 
fact.  A  few  letters  passed  between  them  —  as  I  under- 
stood it,  and  I  was  at  that  time  quite  interested  in  the 
misguided  girl.  At  different  intervals  her  father  has, 
through  his  business  man,  learned  that  she  was  not  actually 
suffering.  Then  he  heard  that  she  had  been  deserted." 

"She  was  not  deserted!"  exclaimed  Maggie  angrily. 
"  Her  husband  was  persuaded  to  return  to  his  native  land 
by  an  uncle,  and  there  was  a  fortune  coming  to  him  —  " 

The  incredulous  smile  on  the  handsome  face  opposite, 
embarrassed  Maggie. 

"  And  then  there  was  some  political  trouble." 

« Exactly,"  with  a  rather  derisive  nod.  "  And  the  gen- 
tleman has  not  returned.  Meanwhile,  his  wife  dies  — 
shall  I  say  of  a  broken  heart  ?  We  scarcely  believe  in 
such  things  now-a-days." 

"  She  loved  him  !  She  had  the  utmost  faith  in  him.  I 
am  to  keep  the  child  —  " 

Maggie  studied  the  face  of  her  visitor.  It  was  high- 
bred,  proud  to  haughtiness,  but  quite  impassible.  Was 
there  some  underplot  to  gain  possession  of  the  child? 

"  I  see  you  do  not  trust  me  at  all,"  and  the  visitor 
smiled  with  a  fascinating  touch  of  grace  and  pardon.  "  I 
will  be  still  more  explicit.  Mr.  Grenville  desired  to  know 
just  what  his  daughter's  circumstances  were,  and  to  give 
her  some  aid,  unknown.  So  they  consulted  me,  as  I  was 
coming  north,  and  I  was  shocked,  I  must  admit,  when  I 
heard  last  night  of  her  death.  I  hope  she  did  not  want 
for  anything  ?  " 

"  She  did  not,"  the  girl  answered  shortly. 


26  LOST  IN   A   GEEAT  CITT. 

"  And  she  gave  you  the  child  ?  " 

"  She  did.  And  though  you  have  no  faith  in  her  hus- 
band, if  you  had  but  seen  his  letters !  He  will  soon  be 
free,  his  uncle  is  working  for  him.  And  the  little  girl  will 
be  a  great  lady." 

"  You  look  like  a  good,  trusty  girl,  and  I  honor  you  for 
being  so  loyal  to  your  mistress.  But  I  have  seen  a  good 
deal  of  the  world,  and  have  heard  of  foreign  counts  before. 
Still,  I  desire  to  make  some  provision  for  the  child,  and  I 
should  feel  much  more  assured  if  you  would  promise  to 
keep  it  yourself  1 " 

Margaret  Donald  stared  in  surprise. 

"  You  see,"  she  said  in  a  kind  of  candid  and  and  confi- 
dential manner,  lowering  the  bewildering  voice  a  tone  or 
two — "you  see  Mr.  Grenville  would  never  receive  her, 
never!  He  is  the  proudest  and  most  exclusive  gentle- 
man I  have  ever  met.  Then,  too,  he  has  other  grand- 
children who  will  be  his  heirs.  His  health  is  very  delicate 
and  fragile,  and  all  exciting  or  perplexing  matters  are  kept 
from  him  by  his  physician's  command.  So  I  should  feel 
quite  empowered  to  put  the  child  in  some  good  orphan- 
asylum,  or  home,  unless  I  knew  she  was  with  a  reliable 
person.  I  do  believe  you  love  her.  Now,  if  you  were 
but  married ! n 

u  I  have  been  married,  ma'am.  My  husband  deserted 
me,  and  my  little  girl.  She  would  have  been  just  as  old 
as  Miss  Nora.  She  died  before  I  came  to  live  with  Mrs. 
Waldeburgh." 

"  Then  the  way  is  clear.  Now  I  want  you  to  promise 
me  if  you  should  never  hear  from  the  child's  father  you 
will  adopt  her  as  your  own.  On  that  condition  I  will  pay 
over  to  you  a  sum  of  money,  my  own  free  gift,  for  I  shall 
never  mention  it  to  her  grandfather." 

Maggie  glanced  up  in  astonishment. 

"  Yes,  I  am  convinced  that  I  shall  leave  her  in  good 
hands.  I  am  a  quick  reader  of  faces.  Now,  if  you  will 


IN  A   HOSPITAL   WARD.  27 

sign  a  paper  to  this  effect  I  will  pay  over  to  you  —  let  me 
see  —  twelve  hundred  dollars." 

"  I  would  do  it  without  a  penny,  indeed  I  would,  ma'am. 
I'd  work  until  I  dropped,  for  Miss  Nora.  Sometimes  I 
think  I  love  her  as  if  she  was  my  own." 

"  Give  me  a  pen,"  the  lady  commanded,  in  an  imperious 
manner. 

With  that  she  drew  off  her  glove,  displaying  two  mag- 
nificent diamond  rings,  and  one  heavy  band  of  plain  gold 
that  might  have  been  a  wedding-ring. 

"  There !  "  she  exclaimed,  "  read  this.  *  You  promise  to 
keep  the  child,  to  adopt  her,  to  bring  her  up  to  some  useful 
calling,  and  bind  yourself  never  to  send  her  back  to  her 
grandfather.  If  her  father  should  return,  the  money  is 
yours.  If  you  break  your  promise,  in  any  one  respect,  I 
shall  feel  at  liberty  to  sue  you  for  the  money  I  have  paid, 
and  punish  you  to  the  extent  of  the  law  And  if  you 
should  die,  the  child  is  to  be  sent  to  an  asylum.  " 

Maggie  read  the  paper  over  carefully.  There  was  noth- 
ing that  could  possibly  work  harm  to  Nora.  She  seemed 
under  some  strange  spell,  and  the  thought  gave  her  a  thrill 
of  delight  that  if  Nora's  father  never  should  return,  Nora 
would  be  hers,  her  own  darling ! 

She  signed  the  paper,  she  even  sealed  her  promise  on  the 
Bible. 

"  And  now  can  you  tell  me  where  the  little  boys  died  ?  " 

"At  Rochester.  They  were  living  in  the  city  then. 
Mr.  Waldeburgh  was  teaching  music.  They  were  younger 
than  Miss  Nora." 

The  visitor  made  this  entry  in  a  dainty  gold-clasped 
memorandum. 

"And  now,  since  Nora's  fate  is  positively  fixed,  I  think 
it  is  hardly  worth  while  for  Mr.  Grenville  to  know  of  her 
existence.  Sometime,  when  he  is  strong  enough  to  endure 
the  tidings,  it  might  be  as  well  to  inform  him  of  the  death 
of  his  daughter  and  her  two  children.  Her  grandfather 


28  LOST  IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 

would  never  receive  Nora,  he  hated  her  father  so  bitterly, 
and  he  could  not  forgive  his  daughter  for  thus  preferring 
a  stranger  and  an  adventurer.  Here  is  your  money.  Be 
careful  that  you  are  not  robbed  of  it." 

She  counted  out  ten  crisp  bank-notes,  of  fifty  dollars 
each,  five  of  one  hundred,  and  the  rest  in  smaller  denomina- 
tions. Maggie's  eyes  dilated.  She  had  never  handled  so 
much  money  before  in  her  life.  And  surely  it  was  an 
honest  gain. 

"  You  have  inspired  me  with  a  great  deal  ot  confidence. 
Only  be  true  to  your  trust,  and  kind  to  the  poor  little 
thing.  There,  the  hack  has  come ; "  and  the  lady  rose. 

"  Would  you  not  like  to  see  Miss  Nora?" 

"  I  have  hardly  a  moment.     Well  —  yes." 

Maggie  led  the  way.  Nora  was  in  the  charming  sleep 
of  childhood,  and  beautiful  as  a  cherub.  The  girl  stole  a 
furtive  glance  at  the  other's  face.  It  hardly  evinced 
curiosity. 

"  Quite  a  pretty  little  thing.  I  am  sure  you  will  be  a 
good  mother  to  her.  Good-by.  I  trust  your  promise  im- 
plicitly." 

She  picked  her  way  daintly  through  the  little  court- 
yard, entered  the  hack,  and  was  driven  away. 

Margaret  watched  her  out  of  sight.  The  summer  sun- 
shine lay  warm  around  ;  birds  were  singing,  and  the  south 
wind  stirred  the  branches  idly.  Was  she  dreaming  ? 

Here  on  the  table  lay  the  money.  How  strange  the 
whole  episode  appeared !  The  lady  surely  could  not  have 
any  designs  against  Nora;  indeed,  it  was  evident  the 
Grenvilles  cared  nothing  for  the  child. 

Margaret  had  lived  through  her  own  bitter  romance. 
The  man  she  had  loved,  trusted,  and  married,  proved  to  be 
the  husband  of  another  woman.  Her  little  girl  had  been 
snatched  from  her  after  a  brief  illness.  When  she  had 
come  to  live  with  Mrs.  Waldeburgh,  that  lady's  husband 
was  already  in  Europe.  For  eighteen  months  he  had  not 


IN   A   HOSPITAL   WARD.  29 

made  his  appearance ;  was  there  really  such  a  person  in 
existence?  Or  rather  was  she  a  true  and  lawful  wife? 
Ladies  were  sometimes  deceived  in  this  matter,  as  well  as 
poor  girls.  And  if  her  own  father  doubted  the  marriage  — 

"Maggie,  Maggie!"  called  a  sweet  voice  from  the 
adjoining  chamber. 

She  worshipped  the  child.  A  subtle  temptation  stole 
into  her  soul.  If  she  could  have  her  for  hers,  alone !  If 
the  bird-like  voice  would  learn,  presently,  to  say  "  mamma  " 
to  her,  and  a  thrill  of  rapture  filled  her  being.  She  had 
promised,  and  if  Nora's  father  never  came,  —  yes,  this 
beautiful  little  creature  would  be  hers.  There  was  no  one 
else  in  the  world  to  care  for  it. 

"My  darling!  my  darling!"  she  cried,  clasping  Nora  to 
her  heart. 

"I  want  mamma,  Maggie.  Why  must  she  stay  in 
heaven  always  ?  " 

"  Because  it  is  God's  will,  my  darling.  I  am  to  be  your 
mamma  now,  kiss  me." 

She  slipped  down  from  the  bed,  out  of  her  nurse's  tender 
embrace,  and  stood  there  grave  and  sad,  and  said,  with 
most  unchildlike  firmness, 

tt  Maggie,  you  can  never  be  my  mamma,  never." 


30  LOST   IN  A   GREAT   CITY. 


CHAPTER  IIL 

TIM  CHAPNKY'S  PRIZE. 

«  HERB,"  said  Tim  Chafney.  "  It  ain't  hardly  fit  for  a 
little  lady  like  you,  but  mebbe  it's  best.  Anyhow,  it's 
where  I  live.  Up  these  stairs  —  you're  so  tired  I'd  better 
carry  you,  I  guess." 

Nora  made  no  demur.  She  was  still  sobbing,  and  the 
paroxysms  seemed  to  rend  her  slight  frame  ;  but  she  had 
ceased  to  weep  tears,  and  was  too  much  exhausted  to  ob- 
ject to  anything. 

She  had  wandered  on  in  terror  and  bewilderment  until 
she  had  reached  the  festering  purlieus  of  the  east  side.  A 
few  brick  tenements  reared  their  lofty  heads,  and  were 
crowded  with  human  beings,  but  the  larger  part  were  old, 
tumble-down  shanties,  or  houses  that  had  once  been  quite 
respectable  but  were  now  given  over  to  greed  of  land- 
lords, and  the  huddling  together  of  miserable  wretches. 

It  was  one  of  the  last  that  Tim  Chafney  entered,  and  it 
still  showed  some  traces  of  its  former  grandeur.  The  stairs 
were  wide,  the  ceilings  high,  and  the  windows  capacious. 
But  the  floors  were  a  mass  of  grease  and  dirt,  the  walls 
were  smoked  and  smeared.  To  the  front  room  on  the  sec- 
ond floor  he  carried  his  burden,  having  a  key  of  his  own  to 
fit  the  door. 

There  was  a  tumbled  bed  in  one  corner,  a  few  chairs,  a 
table  with  the  remnants  of  breakfast,  a  rusty  stove  in  the 
fireplace,  surmounted  by  a  much-banged  teakettle  and  two 
flat-irons.  The  air  was  close  and  foul,  the  sun  had  shone 
hi  the  windows  all  day  long,  leaving  it  hotter  than  ever. 


TIM   CHAFNE¥'3   PRIZE.  31 

Nora  gave  one  glance  around,  then,  shivering  with  dis- 
gust, clung  to  Tim  and  cried  out : 

"  Oh,  take  me  away,  take  me  away !  I  can't  stay  here 
in  this  —  " 

"  Well,  where  11  I  take  you  ?  n  the  boy  asked,  roughly. 
"  You  wouldn't  go  to  the  Station  —  oh,  jiminy  1  what's  to 
pay  now  ?  " 

Exhausted  and  overcome,  nature  had  suddenly  given 
way.  Fainting-fits  were  not  new  in  Tim's  experience, 
though  they  were  generally  preceded  by  some  well-direct- 
ed blow.  The  child  was  more  manageable  now.  He  laid 
her  on  the  bed,  ran  for  a  pitcher  of  water,  and  bathed  her 
face,  touching  her  long  hair  with  a  kind  of  awe,  its  color 
and  texture  were  so  wondrously  beautiful. 

"  Will  you  look  at  the  clothes ! "  he  said  to  himself. 
"  That's  swell  toggery.  And  light  kid  boots !  She's  some- 
body's young  'un,  I  know.  Now,  if  her  dad,  or  any  of  her 
folks,  would  do  the  han'some  —  " 

She  drew  a  long  sigh,  and  opened  her  eyes. 

"  I  am  so  tired,  so  tired  I  And  my  feet  ache  dreadfully. 
Is  this  your  house  ?  " 

"Yes." 

Tim  Chafney  blushed  with  a  feeling  compounded  of 
shame  and  mortification. 

"It's  my  guv'ner's,  an'  Mother  Mell's.  You  see  my 
mammy  she  died  too,  and  then  dad  married  Kelsey's 
Bet ;  but  she  run  off  with  Long  Joe,  went  to  Californy,  we 
heerd;  and  then  he  took  Mother  Mell.  T'other  room's 
mine,  in  there  ; "  and  he  nodded  toward  the  door  with  his 
head.  "  I  sell  papers,  and  do  odd  jobs,"  and  a  broad  grin 
illumined  his  face. 

«  Could  I  have  a  drink  ?  " 

He  rinsed  the  coffee-grounds  out  of  a  cup  and  filled  it 
with  water.  She  drank  it  eagerly,  then  attempted  to  rise, 
but  fell  back  again. 

"  You're  clean  beat  out,  you  see,"  he  explained.    "  Now 


32  LOST  IN   A  GREAT  CITY. 

I'll  tell  you  what  I'll  do.     You  jest  lay  here,  and  I'll  fix  up 
my  room  a  bit.     You've  been  used  to  better  fare,  I  know 
but  mebbe  you  can  make  it  do  till  to-morrow.     And  then 
I'll  find  Maggie." 

"  Oh,  if  you  only  will ! "  she  exclaimed,  imploringly. 

"  You  may  bet  your  life  I'll  have  her,  if  she  is  to  be 
found.  But  see  here !  Where's  your  daddy  ?  " 

She  looked  at  him  in  momentary  confusion. 

"  My  papa  is  —  ever  so  far  ofij  across  the  ocean,  in  Ger- 
many. Oh,  my  feet  do  ache  BO  !  Can't  you  take  off  my 
shoes  ?  n 

Tim  became  a  willing  lady's-maid,  though  he  was  some' 
what  clumsy. 

Poor  little  feet!  They  throbbed  and  burned  like  fire. 
The  pain  absolutely  brought  tears  to  her  eyes. 

Tim  went  to  prepare  his  room.  It  was  not  very  large, 
being  at  the  head  of  the  hall,  and  contained  a  cot  and  an 
old-fashioned  chest  of  drawers.  A  dilapidated  comfortable 
was  thrown  over  the  bed,  and  the  straw  pillow  had  no 
case.  A  dim  sense  of  neatness  and  propriety  struggled 
through  his  thick  brain.  He  might  creep  into  his  kennel 
like  a  dog,  but  this  pretty  little  girl  — 

"I'll  sweep  up  a  bit  first.  An'  I  s'pose  she  has  sheets 
and  things  on  her  bed ;"  and  thereat  Tim  gave  his  shaggy 
chestnut  curls  a  dig.  "  If  Mother  Mell  didn't  come  home 
drunk,  but  she  will,  and  mebbe  the  guv'ner  '11  be  a  little 
high  —  oh,  I'll  jest  ask  Ann  Rooney  1 " 

He  ran  up  on  the  next  floor,  and  told  his  story  ovef 
briefly. 

"  The  saints  be  praised  !  It's  not  lyin*  that  ye  are,  Tim  ?  " 
and  the  round,  rosy,  Irish  face,  with  its  keen  blue  eyes, 
was  turned  full  upon  him. 

u  Come  and  see  for  yourself,  then.  Come  down  do,  and 
mebbe  you  can  tell  me  what  to  do  with  her.  I'll  hunt  her 
iolks  up  to-morrow,  an'  if  I  get  a  reward  I'll  go  you  shares, 
Ann  Rooney,  so  I  will." 


TIM  CHAFNEY'S  PRIZE.  33 

Nothing  doubting  now,  the  woman  followed  him.  Sure 
enough,  there  lay  the  pale  little  waif  on  the  bed,  and  her 
tired  face  went  to  the  motherly  heart  at  once. 

"  The  poor  lamb  !  And  it's  lost  ye  are  ?  No,  don't  go 
to  cryin'.  I  wouldn't  hurt  a  hair  o'  yer  head.  And  Tim 
here's  goin'  to  make  a  nice  bed  for  yer;  but  yez  must  have 
a  bite  and  sup,  and  a  cup  o'  tay." 

« I'd  like  to  get  her  fixed  afore  Mother  Mell  comes  in. 
There's  no  tellin'  —  " 

"Ye'r  right,  there,  honey!"  and  Mrs.  Rooney  gave  a  sly 
wink  out  of  her  eyes.  **  The  misthress  may  have  a  drop 
too  much  of  some'at  stronger'n  tea.  And  the  sheets,  ye 
said  ?  " 

She  ran  off  after  them.  Spreading  the  ragged  comfort- 
able over  the  cot,  she  covered  it  with  a  sheet,  and  then 
rejoined  Tim. 

"  An'  now,  if  ye  didn't  mind,  I  might  be  afther  undress- 
in'  the  poor  lamb.  Will  ye  come  to  me,  honey  ?  I've  a 
little  gal  half  yer  size  in  height,  but  she'd  make  two  of  ye 
in  the  body.  Now  will  ye  tell  me  about  yer  folks,  and 
where  they  are  ?  Tim  '11  find  'em  for  ye  to-morrow-" 

Nora  began  with  her  story,  but  in  a  few  moments  she 
was  again  in  a  fit  of  violent  hysterical  crying,  and  became 
almost  unmanageable.  Mrs.  Rooney  coaxed  and  soothed, 
and  after  having  disrobed  her,  laid  her  between  the  clean 
sheets. 

"  An'  now  a  good  cup  o'  tay  '11  settle  her  narves,  I'm 
thinkin'.  Poor  lamb!  Ye  can't  go  to  night,  ye  know. 
Wait  till  the  morrer  and  Maggie  '11  be  there  a  huntin'  for 
ye.  An'  Tim,  I  might  jist  rub  out  her  frock  to-night,  an' 
her  little  stockings,  that  are  like  a  cobweb  with  fineness, 
and  she'll  be  fresh  as  a  rose  in  the  mornin'.  Now  don't 
cry  any  more,  me  little  darlin',  an'  the  holy  mother  '11  bring 
it  all  out  right  for  such  a  swate  little  thing.  She  looks 
like  an  angel  now,  that  she  does,  Tim;  an'  the  saints  'U  re- 
3 


34  LOST  IN  A   GREAT  CITT. 

member  the  good   deed   agin   ye,  Tim,  when   yer  goin 
through  purgatory." 

Tim  gave  a  cheerful  laugh,  and  dropped  on  the  floor 
by  the  bedside.  There  was  a  hurrying  and  scurrying 
through  the  house,  shrill  voices  scolding,  coarse  voices 
swearing,  and  noisy  children  filling  in  the  pauses.  Now 
and  then  Nora  started  up,  her  eyes  dilating  in  wild  terror, 
but  the  boy  soothed  and  explained,  and  watched  her 
curiously.  A  strange  sense  of  her  power  and  superiority 
seemed  to  grow  upon  him,  and  he  felt  coarse  and  clumsy 
by  contrast. 

Mrs.  Rooney  came  presently  with  the  tea  and  a  bit  of 
bread  and  butter,  but  the  taste  of  both  sickened  Nora. 

«  Try  to  feed  her,  Tim.  The  old  man's  home,  makin'  a 
row  about  supper,  an'  I  must  go.  But  I'll  be  back  agin 
prisently." 

Tim  took  surreptitious  swallows  of  the  tea  and  nibbles  of 
the  bread,  since  Nora  would  have  none  of  it.  Then  he 
brought  in  the  part  of  a  loaf  left  from  breakfast,  and 
munched  it  while  he  tried  to  comfort  the  child  with  prom- 
ises of  finding  Maggie  "  easy."  The  daylight  waned,  and 
at  last  the  poor  tired  little  girl  fell  asleep.  Ann  Rooney, 
busy  with  her  old  man  and  the  childers',  stole  a  few 
moments  at  last  to  "  run  down  a  bit." 

"  It's  glad  I  am  that  she's  asleep,  the  poor  lamb.  If  ye 
can  but  find  her  folks,  Tim,  for  they're  not  the  common 
kind  I'm  thinking.  An'  hasn't  Mother  Mell  come  home 
yet?" 

"  No,  an'  I'm  thankful  that  she's  kept  away.  But  I'd 
like  to  take  a  bit  of  a  run  down  the  street,  if  you  wouldn't 
mind  watchin'  a  little.  Mebbe  'twould  be  best  to  lock  the 
door?" 

"  Yes,  indeed.  Hand  me  the  key  thin,  for  I  hear  Dennis 
callin',  an'  its  a  drop  too  much  he's  had,  so  I  must  run." 

Tim  drew  a  long  breath  of  relief,  and  straightway  pro- 
ceeded to  invest  a  little  loose  change  in  some  peanuts. 


TIM  CHAFNEY'S  PRIZE.  35 

The  sidewalks  were  filling  up  fast,  children  were  swarming 
on  the  stoops  and  in  alley-ways,  followed  here  and  there 
by  shrieking  viragoes,  who  dealt  blows  and  curses  alike 
generously. 

It  was  past  midnight  when  Tim  returned.  Mother  Mell 
had  tumbled  into  bed  to  sleep  off  a  drunken  debauch. 
Nora  tossed  and  tumbled  and  muttered  incoherently,  but 
had  not  been  entirely  awake.  Tim  dropped  into  a  corner 
of  the  hall,  with  a  pile  of  rags  for  a  pillow,  and  slept 
soundly. 

Instead  of  being  off  with  the  lark,  Tim  hung  around  the 
next  morning  until  Mother  Mell  roused  herself:  a  tall, 
handsome,  hard  looking  woman  of  thirty-five,  with  large, 
bold,  black  eyes,  and  jetty  hair,  but  whose  face  showed 
evident  marks  of  dissipation  and  coarseness.  Tim  had  his 
story  to  tell,  and  her  sympathy  to  bespeak  until  he  could 
find  the  child's  natural  protectors.  She  nodded  an  in- 
different assent,  and  then  asked  if  his  father  came  home 
last  evening.  Then  Tim  ran  up  stairs  to  make  matters 
straight  with  Mrs.  Rooney,  and  was  off  for  a  few  specula- 
tions, as  he  considered  himself  a  rather  shrewd  business 
man. 

Nora  woke  in  a  strange  place,  to  find  herself  more  alone, 
and  if  possible  more  terrified  than  on  the  previous  evening. 
Coming  from  the  pretty,  clean  little  town,  and  a  mother's 
exquisite  care,  this  hole  filled  her  with  dismay,  sickened 
her.  The  filthy,  crowded  street,  the  horrible  scents,  the 
screams  and  confusion,  the  sound  of  children  being  beaten, 
or  quarrelling  among  themselves,  turned  the  little  brain 
almost  wild.  In  vain  Mrs.  Rooney  tried  to  comfort  her, 
and  took  her  up-stairs  to  play  with  the  childer.  She  shrank 
from  every  face  and  touch,  cried  first  for  Maggie,  and  then 
for  Tim.  Her  little  feet  were  so  swollen  and  blistered  that 
she  could  not  even  put  on  her  shoes,  and  Mrs.  Rooney  had 
dressed  her  in  a  checked  apron  until  her  small  gown  was 
ready. 


36  LOST   IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 

Tim,  meanwhile,  had  caried  several  baskets  and  travel, 
ling  satchels,  and  worked  his  way  over  to  Broadway,  where 
he  made  inquiries,  first  of  all  of  a  policeman.  But  the  man 
had  heard  nothing  of  a  lost  child,  or  a  woman  named 
Maggie,  and  treated  the  whole  story  as  "  gammon."  So  he 
had  no  good  news  for  the  little  waif. 

"  But  if  you  can  walk  to-morrow,  I'll  take  you  over,"  he 
said  encouragingly,  "  you  may  find  just  the  place.  There, 
don't  cry  my  little  beauty.  See,  I've  brought  you  home 
some  cakes.  It  '11  be  all  right  to-morrow,  never  you  mind." 

Mother  Mell  looked  askance  at  the  child,  but  Mrs. 
Rooney  kept  her  mostly  under  her  protecting  wing ;  for 
though  she  was  poor,  and  had  a  drunken  brute  of  a  hus- 
band, her  heart  was  large  and  tender.  Tim,  with  a  shrewd 
eye  to  business,  and  future  reward,  stood  between  her  and 
harm.  Gentleman  Chaffy,  as  Tim's  father  was  called,  made 
a  few  advances,  which  so  frightened  Nora  that  she  ran  and 
hid  in  Mrs.  Rooney's  dress. 

A  big,  handsome  bully  was  gentleman  Chaffy,  with  the 
figure  of  a  prize-fighter,  and  a  face  that  might  have  been 
painted  for  a  gladiator  when  it  was  not  disfigured  by  de- 
bauch. What  he  did  for  a  livelihood  might  have  been  a 
mystery.  In  this  neighborhood  of  thieves  and  beggars  no 
one  questioned.  Sometimes  he  had  plenty  of  money,  at 
others  he  wrung  Tim's  scanty  sixpences  out  of  his  pockets. 
He  was  coarsely  jolly  and  sullenly  brutal  by  turns.  The 
street,  as  a  general  thing,  stood  in  awe  of  him,  for  his  fist 
was  like  a  sledge-hammer.  Even  Mother  Mell,  with  all 
her  courage  and  audacity,  found  it  hard  to  cope  with  the 
ruffian ;  yet,  in  her  way,  she  not  only  adored  him,  but  was 
proud  of  his  brute  ferocity. 

So  passed  two  days  for  unhappy  little  Nora.  Tim 
studied  the  papers,  but  there  was  no  flaming  advertisement, 
or  extravagant  reward  offered.  The  child  did  not  abso- 
lutely starve,  though  she  sickened  at  the  coarse  food  and 
untidy  tables.  She  was  no  favorite  with  the  children,  who 


TIM  CHAPNEY'S  PRIZE.  37 

were  sturdy  street-gamins,  with  democratic  tendencies,  and 
took  every  occasion  to  jeer  and  torment.  On  the  morning 
of  the  third  day  Tim  delighted  her  with  the  announcement 
that  he  would  take  her  out  with  him  to  find  Maggie.  Mrs. 
Rooney  put  on  her  dainty  boots  and  her  white  dress,  and 
kissed  her  with  much  affection. 

"  Sure  I'd  take  ye  myself,  honey,  if  I  could,  for  ye'r  a 
swate  darlin',  but  Dennis  wouldn't  hear  to  robbin'  the  chil- 
ders,  an'  it's  little  enough  we  get  onyhow.  So  I  hope  ye'll 
hear  'bout  ye'r  Maggy,  an'  there's  a  good-by  kiss.  Ye's  too 
nice  for  the  likes  of  this  hole,  an'  ye've  been  used  to  some- 
thin'  better ;  so  the  holy  Virgin  go  wid  ye,  alanna." 

Alas !  after  a  weary,  weary  search,  Tim  brought  her  home 
at  night.  They  had  asked  in  stores,  inquired  of  apple- 
women,  boot-blacks,  and  numerous  corner  venders,  even 
at  the  police  station.  And  then  it  occurred  to  shrewd  Tim 
that  the  child  had  been  lost  purposely. 

Mother  Mell  was  in  a  tantrum  that  evening.  Her  black 
eyes  flashed  fire,  her  cheeks  were  in  a  flame,  her  voice  loud 
and  shrill.  She  had  been  quarrelling  with  one  of  the  neigh- 
bors, and  as  Tim  entered  opened  upon  him. 

"  What  d'y  bring  that  beggar's  brat  back  here  for  ?  "  she 
screamed.  "  I  ain't  goin'  to  have  the  trollopin'  huzzy  round 
here  with  her  white  dress  and  her  fine,  whinin'  ways.  It'a 
all  a  lie  about  her,  Tim  Chaffy,  an'  ye  knowd  it  well  enough 
from  the  first !  She  ain't  got  no  folks.  Take  her  off"  to  the 
station.  I  won't  have  her  eatin'  honest  folks  out  of  house 
an'  home.  Clear  out,  or  I'll  bang  both  ye'r  heads  off"!  " 

"  What's  all  that  row,  old  woman  ?  "  said  a  voice  in  the 
doorway,  and  Tim's  father  stood  behind  the  frightened 
child. 

"  I  ain't  found  her  folks  yet,"  responded  Tim,  «  an'  she 
don't  want  to  go  to  the  station." 

"  She  hain't  got  no  folks,  I  tell  you,  an'  she  best  to  be 
sent  up  to  the  Island  right  off*.  We  ain't  got  nothin'  to 
waste  on  beggar's  brats  ! " 


38  LOST  IN  A   GREAT  CITY. 

«  Shet  ye'r  head !  "  said  Gentleman  Chaffy,  with  a  sudden 
rush  of  paternal  indulgence.  "  Tim  shall  keep  the  gal  if  he 
likes.  An'  I'll  'dopt  her,  too.  Come  my  little  lass,  will  ye 
take  me  for  a  daddy  ?  Who  knows  but  some  day  I'll  hev 
a  coach-an'-four  to  put  ye  in!"  and  he  laughed  loudly. 
"  Anyhow,  ye  shall  have  a  bed  an'  a  bite  till  ye'r  big  enough 
an'  han'some  enough  to  do  for  yerself,  an'  it  won't  be  long, 
nuther,"  with  a  kind  of  wicked  leer.  "  So,  Mell,  yu'll  jest 
consider  yerself  mammy  to  a  likely  gal,  that  ye  didn't  have 
to  nuss  from  a  screechin'  brat.  An'  now,  old  woman,  let's 
hear  no  more  o'  yer  jaw." 

"  You  mean  to  take  —  to  keep  that  gal ! "  and  the  woman 
was  foaming  with  passion. 

Gentleman  Chaffy  cared  nothing  for  the  child.  What- 
ever tender  feelings  he  might  have  had,  had  been  blunted 
long  ago  by  rum  and  brutality.  But  in  some  moods  he 
liked  to  torment  Mell,  to  show  her  that  fierce  and  high  as 
her  temper  was  he  could  be  her  master.  There  had  been 
several  encounters  in  which  her  lord  and  master  had  left 
the  marks  of  his  authority,  and  her  servitude,  and  now  this 
whim  had  taken  him. 

"Yes,"  he  answered,  "I  mean  to  keep  the  child.  She'll 
be  a  nice  mate  for  Tim,  here." 

Mell  gauged  his  eyes.  She  loved  Gentleman  Chaffy  in 
her  strange,  tigerish  fashion,  and  the  few  women  who  had 
dared  to  come  between  had  suffered  for  their  temerity,  in 
her  unreasoning  jealousy.  But  she  knew  now  if  she  began 
any  open  assault  she  would  surely  get  the  worst  of  it,  and 
her  enemy  be  exalted  in  triumph.  Yet  she  so  hated  the 
child  at  that  moment,  she  could  have  torn  her  limb  from 
limb. 

Her  face  flushed  with  an  angry  purple,  and  she  gave  a 
loud,  shrill  laugh. 

"  Upon  my  word  we're  quite  swells !  'Doptin'  gals  and 
all  that!  Well,  I  hope  yer  darter '11  be  good  to  yer  in 
yer  old  age.  What  yer  starin'  for,  Tim  ?  Didn't  yer  hear 


TIM  CHAPNEY'S  PRIZE.  39 

what  yer  gen'rous  par  was  sayin'  ?  Come,  sissy,  take  off 
yer  hat,  and  make  yerself  ter  hum.  Tisn't  every  day  a  little 
gal  gets  a  par  an'  mar,  and  a  brother  Tim." 

Gentleman  Chaffy  looked  hard  at  her. 

"  None  o'  yer  blasted  tricks,  Mell,"  he  said, «  or  I'll  break 
every  bone  in  yer  han'sorne  body,  and  make  yer  such  a  pile 
yer  best  friends  wouldn't  know  yer." 

Mell  understood  that  discretion  was  the  better  part  of 
wisdom.  For  that  matter  she  had  learned  it  by  the  very 
hardest.  So  she  gave  another  loud  laugh. 

"  Come  in,  all  hands,"  she  said  with  an  attempt  at  merri- 
ment. "  We'll  have  a  sort  o'  party  on  that.  Tim,  run  out 
and  get  some  ale  and  some  cheese,  and  mebbe  sissy  would 
like  some  cake  an'  strawb'ries.  Yer  par  '11  stan'  treat,  I 
know.  He  allers  does  the  han'sum  thing !  " 

But  she  was  hardly  prepared  to  see  her  husband  take  a 
bill  from  his  pocket  and  hand  it  to  Tim. 

"  Mebbe  I'd  better  go,"  she  said. 

"  No  yer  won't,  nuther.  You'll  stay  hum  and  bile  the 
kettle,  Polly.  Come,  my  little  lass,  let's  hear  all  this  story 
*bout  yer  gittin'  lost." 

He  coaxed  Nora  on  his  knee,  while  Mell  gave  her  a 
vengeful  glance.  With  Tim's  aid,  after  he  returned,  the 
story  was  told  over  quite  coherently. 

"  She's  a  swell  kid,  as  ye  can  see,"  said  Tim,  with  a  very 
knowing  air,  "  but  her  par  maybe  one  of  those  precious 
old  Summers  that's  in  plays  an'  stories,  and  mebbe  the  gal 
didn't  know  just  what  to  do  with  her,  'n  left  her  in  the 
street.  I've  tried  my  level  best  to  git  on  the  lay,  but  there 
don't  seem  no  track.  And  so's  yer  willin'  to  keep  her,  I'll 
help,  too.  She's  purty  'nough  to  sell  flowers  and  all  that, 
and  she  kin  soon  help  to  aim  her  own  livin'." 

The  boy's  vernacular  was  almost  like  an  unknown  tongue 
to  the  child,  but  she  understood  that  her  home  was  to  be 
here  for  the  present,  and  that  there  had  been  some  doubt 
thrown  upon  Maggie.  Her  heart  swelled  within  her,  but 


40  LOST  IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 

she  did  not  dare  to  give  way  to  tears,  and  it  seemed  to  her 
almost  unthankful.  Could  she  not  find  her  way  over 
to  Broadway,  and  watch  every  day,  without  bothering 
any  one  ? 

There  was  a  place  in  Gentleman  Chaffy's  heart  that  the 
little  girl  touched  that  night.  She  made  him  think  of  his 
honest,  simple,  country  boyhood,  and  of  one  golden-haired 
lass,  the  squire's  daughter,  who  was  queen  of  the  place, 
and  whom  every  great  boy  worshipped.  It  brought  back 
pictures  of  green  fields  and  babbling  brooks,  of  fragrant 
smells,  fruit-blossoms,  haying  time,  and  harvest  days,  and 
he  sat  there  until  the  child  fell  asleep,  when  he  laid  her 
down  softly  on  Tim's  bed.  There  was  a  light  in  his  face 
Mell  had  never  seen  there. 

All  the  cruel  hate  of  the  woman's  soul  was  aroused.  It 
was  not  sufficient  to  know  that  this  was  a  passing  fancy, 
that  in  a  week's  time  he  might  treat  her  to  the  same  liberal 
allowance  of  kicks  and  cuffs  that  he  occasionally  showered 
upon  Tim,  that  she  might  he  able  to  beat  her  by  and  by, 
to  despoil  her  of  that  golden  hair,  to  brown  and  harden 
the  fair  skin  by  exposure,  to  starve  almost,  to  degrade  — 
it  all  passed  through  her  mind  —  she  knew  the  history  of 
girls  and  women  so  well.  And  what  if  it  were  months 
before  she  dared  to  wreak  this  vengeance!  To  see  her 
petted  —  a  girl,  a  woman  —  by  his  hand  ! 

He  had  thrown  himself  on  the  bed,  and  was  sleeping 
heavily.  When  had  he  ever  staid  in-doors  before  ?  Tim 
was  not  home  yet.  She  stole  in  the  hall  room  and  looked 
at  the  child.  A  ray  of  moonlight  fell  across  the  bed ; 
strange  and  out  of  place  it  looked  in  that  den  of  vileness. 
Outside,  the  garish  street-lamps  and  flaming  kerosene  dis- 
puted every  inch,  and  made  a  sickly,  hideous  glare,  more 
fit  for  the  street  orgies. 

o 

A  week  had  wrought  a  great  change  in  Elsinore.  She 
was  thinner,  paler,  the  eyes  a  little  sunken,  and  blue  under- 


TIM  CHAFNEY'S  PRIZE.  4\ 

neath,  and  the  sweet  mouth  drawn  with  tense  lines.  Yet 
in  that  dingy  bed  it  was  the  face  of  a  cherub. 

She  came  closer.  Mell  Chafney,  and  her  long,  bony  fin« 
gers  clutched  each  other.  How  easily  she  could  strangle 
her,  that  white  throat  was  so  little !  There  was  murder  in 
the  woman's  eye,  a  jealous  fury,  and  yet  something  that 
was  not  conscience  withheld  her. 

I'd  be  a  fool  to  try  Sing-Sing  for  that  brat  1 "  and  she 
gave  a  low,  scornful  laugh.  "  Oh,  my  beauty,  if  yer  were 
a  few  years  older  I'd  punish  yer  mug  so's  no  man  'd  ever 
want  to  make  love  to  yer.  And  he's  as  good  as  done  it, 
drat  him !  D  'yer  think  yer  could  set  in  his  lap  and  be 
coddled,  and  me  a  lookin'  on  an'  sayin'  nothin'  ?  I'll  show 
yer!" 

Then  she  paused  suddenly.  "  Mell  Chafney,  yer  a  fool," 
she  said,  "  all  along  o'  yer  jealousy.  Yer  kin  do  better  'n 
that,  and  git  rid  o'  her  without  a  word.  Yes,  an'  I'll  do  it, 
too.  Yer  race  is  run  in  this  place,  my  fine  swell !  Afore 
I'm  much  older  ye'll  find  some  one  who  isn't  Maggie, 
nuther,  and  we'll  see  'bout  'doptin'  gals,  Chafly,  that 
we  will." 

But  Nora  slept  on,  innocent  of  danger. 


42  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

TBB    FIRST    LINK. 

*OuB  beat  plan,"  said  Mr.  Byington,  drawing  on  his 
gloves, "  will  be  to  make  inquiries  in  the  vicinity  of  Broad- 
way and  City  Hall.  Some  one  must  have  seen  the  child. 
Doubtless  the  policeman  will  be  able  to  tell  us." 

"I  went  to  the  station,  and  no  lost  child  had  been 
brought  in,"  his  wife  replied,  with  a  perplexed  face.  "  But 
I  would  ask  everywhere ;  and  you  will  have  the  advertise- 
ments inserted  immediately." 

u  Yes.  Go  and  see  the  poor  thing  again  to-day,  and  if  I 
hear  anything  important  I  will  send  a  messenger  at  once." 

Mr.  Byington's  first  call  was  at  the  drug-store.  Not 
learning  anything,  he  continued  his  search,  taking  in,  as 
Tim  had,  various  street-peddlers.  They  were  quite  sure 
they  had  seen  a  little  girl,  but  their  stories  were  utterly 
wild  and  unreliable.  Then  he  sought  out  a  policeman, — 
the  one  who  had  assisted  after  the  accident. 

"  A  lost  child ! "  and  the  man  put  on  a  thoughtful,  puz- 
zled air.  "  Why,  no,  I  do  not  remember  any  one  asking 
for  the  woman.  There  was  a  little  stray  boy  that  I  took 
to  the  station  three  or  four  days  ago.  About  a  fortnight, 
this  must  be." 

"She  must  have  been  a  very  noticeable  and  beautiful 
child;  very  fair,  with  long  golden  hair,  dressed  in  white, 
with  a  black  sash-ribbon.  This  is  a  portrait  of  her." 

"  Seems  to  me  I've  seen  that  face  before.  But  then  so 
many  pretty  children  with  golden  hair  go  up  and  down 
Broadway,  that  one  almost  wonders  where  all  the  plain 


THE  FIRST   LINK.  43 

women  come  from.  You  might  see  McBride ;  his  beat  ia 
fust  up  above.  He  may  have  heard." 

So  to  McBride  Mr.  Byington  went,  and  the  story  was 
told  over  again.  There  had  been  several  strays  in  the  past 
fortnight,  but  none  appeared  to  answer  the  description. 

Mr.  Byington  turned,  quite  discouraged.  It  seemed 
strange  that  any  human  being  could  disappear  so  entirely, 
and  he  looked  back  wistfully. 

"  What  was  the  woman's  name  ?  "  asked  McBride. 

a  Margaret  Donald." 

44  And  she  had  the  child  in  charge  ?  See  here,  now,  I 
do  remember  a  bit  of  something.  There  was  a  boy  about 
here,  a  reg'lar  street  Arab,  asking  about  a  woman  named 
Maggie,  and  one  day  he  brought  a  little  girl,  —  why,  maybe 
this  is  the  scent  of  the  game.  He  was  in  rags,  and  seems 
to  me  she  was  pretty.  I  didn't  charge  my  mind,  you 
know,  but  told  'em  they'd  better  go  to  the  station;"  and 
the  man's  face  lighted  up  with  interest. 

•  A  child  of  seven  or  so  ?  " 

"She  was  a  little  tot.  I  rather  suspected  he  was  on 
some  lay,  and  the  girl  was  a  kind  of  decoy-duck.  But  the 
name  being  similar  —  " 

"  And  you  did  not  question  them  ?  n 

*  No.    A  pretty  pack  of  lies  I'd  have  stored  in  my  mind 
if  I  questioned  every  youngster.     I  could  not  know  any- 
thing about  them,  and  I  never  connected  the  child  with 
the  woman  who  was  hurt.     Where  did  the  girl  go  that 
day?" 

a  She  was  frightened,  and  ran  away  before  the  accident. 
Should  you  know  the  boy  again  ?" 

tt  Well,  I  can't  say.  He  was  a  sharp-looking  youngster, 
and  they  travel  all  over.  Beatty  must  have  seen  them,  I 
think." 

u  Keep  a  sharp  look-out  for  them,  if  they  should  come  in 
this  direction  again." 

With  that  Mr.  Byington  went  back  to  Beatty,  who  was 


44  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

gallantly  piloting  a  bevy  of  damsels  across  the  street.  In 
the  first  leisure  moment  he  questioned  him,  and  found  that 
he,  too,  remembered  two  children,  who  had  been  inquiring 
about  a  woman  named  Maggie. 

"  Strange  I  didn't  think  of  them  before,  but  then  they 
were  not  like  ordinary  stray  children.  The  boy  fooled 
about  here  two  or  three  days,  and  was  pretty  impudent,  so 
I  rather  mistrusted  the  whole  story." 

The  questioner  gave  a  sigh  of  disappointment.  To 
come  so  near  —  and  yet  it  was  something  to  hear  that  the 
child  was  alive,  and  desirous  of  finding  her  natural  pro- 
tector. 

"  I  shall  advertise,  and  I  want  you  to  keep  a  sharp  look- 
out for  the  boy.  If  they  only  had  left  any  clue !  Here  is 
my  address;  so  if  you  should  learn  anything,  let  me  know 
at  once." 

Mrs.  Byington  waited  until  qnite  late  that  day  before 
she  went  to  the  hospil  al.  The  little  news  that  she  could 
take  was  cheering. 

"I  think  the  child  has  fallen  into  the  hands  of  some 
friendly  people,"  she  said,  soothingly.  "We  shall  hear 
soon,  no  doubt.  They  would  produce  her  for  the  sake  of 
the  reward,  if  nothing  else."  Keep  up  good  heart,  my 
poor  girl." 

Maggie  was  not  so  well  that  day.  The  unrest  of  the 
night  previous  had  brought  on  a  slight  return  of  the  fever. 
Her  mental  vision  had  been  so  distorted  that  she  could 
hardly  separate  the  dreams  from  the  reality.  And  with  it 
all,  a  sense  of  torturing,  passionate  love,  —  the  love  that 
had  led  her  to  desire  Nora  for  her  own. 

All  that  night,  after  her  strange  visitor's  departure,  she 
had  turned  it  over  in  her  mind.  Her  dead  mistress  had 
left  word  for  her  simple  furniture  to  be  sold ;  her  clothes 
and  jewels  packed  for  her  child.  With  these  and  the  few 
hundred  dollars,  Maggie  was  to  go  to  New  York,  and  wait 


THE  FIRST   LINK.  45 

until  some  tidings  came.  When  Mrs.  Waldeburgh  had 
been  left  by  her  husband,  she  little  dreamed  their  parting 
would  be  final.  If  he  could  be  successful  in  proving  his 
rights, —  which  must  be  done  during  the  life  of  his  uncle, — 
they  would  be  placed  far  above  the  reach  of  the  poverty 
they  had  struggled  with  so  cheerfully.  His  arrest  had 
proved  a  terrible  shock  to  her;  and  then,  for  the  first  time, 
she  suspected  her  dangerous  malady.  She  battled  against 
it  bravely ;  perhaps  it  would  have  been  better  if  she  had 
yielded  a  little.  But  she  had  eked  out  their  small  income 
by  lessons  in  music  and  singing,  and  she  felt  impelled  to 
continue  them  until  it  was  too  late.  Even  then  she  could 
not  bear  to  add  to  her  husband's  anxiety  until  she  found 
death  staring  her  in  the  face.  With  the  same  steady  cour- 
age she  made  all  arrangements,  and  it  was  the  answer  to 
this  last  sad  letter  that  Margaret  was  to  await,  and  be 
guided  by.  And  it  was  curious,  now,  how  a  doubt  crept 
into  the  mind  of  the  trusty  girl. 

The  next  day  they  said  adieu  to  the  few  sincere  friends. 
A  wearisome  and  anxious  journey  it  proved  to  one  so  un- 
accustomed to  travelling ;  but  at  last  Maggie  found  herself 
and  her  belongings  deposited  safely  in  the  cousin's  home, 
and  met  with  a  warm  reception  from  Ellen,  who  had  not 
seen  her  since  her  unfortunate  desertion. 

To  Ellen  Brown  she  confided  a  part  of  her  strange  trust. 
Of  the  money  she  did  not  speak. 

"  It's  a  curious  story,"  said  Ellen.  "  And  you  never  saw 
the  child's  father?" 

"No.  There  are  several  pictures  of  him,  and  there  is 
the  marriage  certificate  and  the  letters.  I  can't  doubt,  for 
all  that  handsome  old  woman  was  so  sure." 

"She  was  married,  I  think.  But  will  he  ever  come  back 
after  the  child  ?  Men  do  such  queer  things  in  this  world, 
Margaret.  The  ground  isn't  good  enough  for  you  to  walk 
on  at  first,  and  they'd  fairly  fling  themselves  under  your 
feet,  but  after  a  while  you  can  walk  by  yourself,  and  bujf 


46  LOST   IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 

your  own  shoes  in  the  bargain.  She  is  a  pretty  little  thing 
Shall  you  take  her,  Maggie  ?  " 

"Indeed  I  will.  Do  you  know  I  could  almost  find  it  in 
my  heart  to  wish — no,  I  don't  mean  that,  but  I  love  her 
BO.  It's  just  like  my  own  she  seems,  Ellen,  and  I'd  keep 
her  gladly." 

"But  there's  next  to  nothing  for  her." 

"  As  if  I  should  mind  that !  I'd  not  grudge  any  work 
for  her ; "  with  a  bright,  cordial  smile. 

"  Her  heart's  so  set  upon  her  own  mother,  though.  And 
she  seems  such  a  proud  little  thing.  It  would  be  hard, 
Maggie,  to  waste  your  time  and  money  upon  her,  and  then 
have  her  turn  and  flout  you." 

"  She  would  understand  when  she  was  older." 

"  But  I  can't  help  thinking  that  it  is  a  great  risk,  and 
even  blood  kin  are  not  always  thankful.  Yet  you  are  right 
to  do  your  whole  duty  by  her,  and  she  is  nearer  for  the  lit- 
tle one  you  lost." 

She  was  an  imperious  little  queen,  this  Nora,  although 
warm-hearted  and  tender.  But  there  was  a  difference  be« 
tween  her  and  the  chubby,  common-place  young  Browns. 
Margaret  coaxed,  and  tried  to  buy  the  concession  of  being 
called  mamma.  But  Nora  was  firm  in  her  refusal,  though 
often  pained  by  it  herself,  as  Maggie  could  see.  She  grew 
daily  more  beautiful  to  the  eyes  of  her  partial  nurse,  who 
coveted  entire  possession  with  a  deep,  ardent  passion. 
Margaret  was  an  expert  needle-woman,  and  already  she 
had  planned  for  herself  a  home  in  some  pretty  suburb, 
where  she  could  establish  herself  and  earn  an  honorable 
living,  and  bring  up  her  little  daughter.  For  when  Nora 
was  old  enough  to  understand  the  facts  of  the  case  how 
could  she  be  otherwise  than  grateful  ? 

Thus  had  passed  a  few  days  in  the  city.  Once  Margaret 
had  gone  down  to  the  shipping-house  where  the  letters 
were  to  be  sent.  Not  that  she  expected  one  so  soon,  but 
she  wanted  to  make  some  inquiries  about  Mr.  Waldeburgh, 


THE   FIRST   LINK.  47 

To  her  great  surprise  the  clerk  knew  absolutely  nothing, 
and  asked  her  sharply,  as  if  he  considered  her  an  impostor, 
if  she  was  sure  there  was  any  such  person. 

The  child  delighted  to  be  dressed  and  taken  out  on 
Broadway.  On  the  morning  of  the  accident  Maggie  had 
been  shopping  a  little,  buying  parcels  of  fruit,  and  various 
small  matters,  and  had  designed  to  cross  Broadway  and 
take  a  Third  Avenue  car,  with  what  fateful  result  the 
reader  knows. 

And  as  she  tossed  upon  her  bed,  all  these  memories 
haunted  Margaret  Donald  with  the  most  poignant  anguish. 
If  she  had  not  so  coveted  the  child  —  ah,  was  it  God's  swift 
punishment  ?  She  had  failed  in  her  trust  to  her  dead  mis- 
tress; in  her  arrogance  and  ambition  the  treasure  had 
shipped  out  of  her  hands. 

Was  it  true  they  had  found  some  trace  of  her  ?  Oh,  if 
she  were  only  well !  If  she  could  begin  and  search  the 
great  city,  she  felt  sure  she  could  succeed. 

Meanwhile  the  city  grew  hotter,  and  one  after  another 
flitted  to  some  country  or  sea-side  resort.  Mrs.  Byington, 
whose  arrangements  had  been  made  some  time  before,  de- 
layed day  after  day,  pitying  Margaret's  distress  and  search- 
ing for  the  child.  Armed  with  the  picture,  she  visited 
homes  and  institutions  for  stray  children.  Now  and  then 
a  face  almost  assured  her  that  she  had  found  the  object  of 
her  inquiries,  but  the  story  would  prove  it  a  failure. 
Nothing  had  come  of  the  advertisement,  though  a  liberal 
reward  had  been  offered. 

The  Byingtons  were  sitting  over  their  dinner  one  even- 
ing. The  day  had  been  melting ;  but  now  a  pleasant  breeze 
was  wafted  from  the  park,  and  wandered  in  at  the  spacious 
windows,  a  welcome  guest. 

"It  is  hardly  worth  while  to  delay  your  journey  any 
longer,"  Mr.  Byington  was  saying.  "  The  search  for  the 
child  will  continue,  and  the  woman  will  get  well,  and  now 


48  LOST   IN   A   GREAT   CITT. 

I  do  not  see  that  either  can  be  forwarded  greatly  by  your 
remaining.  And  really,  you  are  looking  quite  careworn." 

"  Am  I  ?  "  and  she  smiled.  "  To  tell  the  truth,  I  have 
been  intensely  interested.  Margaret  seems  such  a  faithful 
girl,  and  her  devotion  as  well  as  her  sufferings  have  touched 
me  keenly." 

"  But  George  and  Lawrence  were  to  meet  you  at  Mont- 
real, you  know.  You  would  have  barely  time  if  you 
started  to-morrow.  And  I  think  that  would  be  best.  The 
girl  sits  up,  you  say,  and  is  surely  recovering  ?  " 

"  A  message  for  you,  sir,"  announced  the  butler,  handing 
it  to  his  master. 

Mr.  Byington  broke  it  open.  He  was  as  anxious  about 
Nora  as  his  wife  could  possibly  be. 

"Good  newsl  They  have  found  the  boy,  and  have 
him  at  the  station.  Isn't  this  queer?  'He  refuses  to 
admit  where  the  child  really  is,  but  confesses  that  he 
found  her.  Come  immediately.'  Perhaps  the  young  ras- 
cal is  holding  off  for  a  larger  reward.  I  think  I  can  bring 
him  to  terms." 

"  Oh,  Edward ! "  and  Mrs.  Byington  rose.  "  Let  me  see 
the  message.  Found  !  Oh,  the  little  darling !  I  am  wild 
with  impatience  to  see  her.  Edward,  I  have  been  think- 
ing —  but  you  will  have  her  brought  here ! " 

"Alice,  do  not  excite  yourself  so,"  and  he  took  her 
trembling  hand.  "  Yes,  the  child  shall  come  here  as  soon 
as  we  get  possession  of  her." 

"And  can  we  not  send  to  the  hospital?  Poor  Mar- 
garet looked  at  me  so  wistfully  to-day  that  my  heart  ached 
for  her." 

"  We  may  be  a  little  premature,  my  dear; "  and  he  smiled 
tenderly  into  the  fond  eyes. 

wBwt  if  they  have  found  the  boy?  Oh,  think  how 
sweetly  she  would  sleep !  No,  I  cannot  keep  the  blessed 
news  from  her  a  moment." 

"  y«>u  are  eager  as  a  child.     Have  your  own  way  then. 


THE  FIRST   LINK.  49 

And  now  will  you  order  in  the  dessert?     I  must  start 
as  soon  as  I  can." 

She  dispatched  a  servant  first  to  the  Hospital.  How 
strange  that  she  should  feel  so  interested  in  this  child,  who 
was  really  nothing  to  her  1 

"I  suppose  you  will  not  start  to-morrow?  Had  you  not 
better  write  to  the  boys  to-night  ?  Let  me  see,  —  tell  them 
to  remain  until  we  come ;  for  we  must  get  off  speedily." 

She  did  not  linger  over  the  table  when  he  had  gone. 
She  went  to  her  room,  took  off  her  elegant  silken  dinner- 
dress,  and  donned  a  soft,  white  wrapper,  full  of  dainty 
plaitings  and  laces,  that  gave  her  slender  figure  an  air  of 
girlishness.  Then  she  seated  herself  at  her  desk.  There 
before  her  lay  the  portrait  of  Elsinore,  with  its  childish 
grace  and  witchery.  What  was  there  in  it  that  so  en- 
tranced her?  All  her  married  life  she  had  longed  for  a 
daughter.  Three  sons  had  been  born  to  her,  two  of  whom 
were  living.  And  if  this  child  were  fatherless,  as  well  as 
motherless,  —  ah,  and  she  drew  a  long  breath,  as  if  she  had 
seen  a  vision.  A  little  girl  to  dress  and  kiss  and  train  ;  to 
hear  soft-voiced  prayers;  to  be  coaxed  with  rare,  girlish 
sweetness;  to  be  caressed  with  soft  hands;  to  have  a 
daughter  growing  up  by  one's  side ;  to  live  all  one's  life 
over  again  in  her  successes,  her  marriage,  her  children! 
Maggie  had  not  dreamed  it  so  glowingly,  but  the  two 
women  were  not  so  far  apart  in  their  longings. 

Her  head  dropped  on  her  hand,  and  she  still  studied  the 
picture.  No  common  child,  was  this ;  you  could  see  birth 
and  breeding  in  every  line.  And  so  she  wrote  no  letter, 
nor  even  stirred  until  her  husband's  step  and  voice  roused 
her,  and  she  glanced  up  with  a  tender  smile, 
4 


50  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  LiTY. 


CHAPTER  V. 

MOTHER  MELL'S  STRATAGEM. 

WHAT  gentleman  Chafney's  business  really  was  seldom 
appeared  on  the  surface.  He  had  no  trade  or  situation. 
Sometimes  money  was  plenty  with  him,  sometimes  not. 
Occasionally  he  was  away  for  a  week  or  so,  coming  home 
flush  and  good-natured,  or  penniless  and  in  the  mood  of 
a  tiger,  and  being  half  drunk  for  days.  People  in  this 
locality  did  not  inquire  too  closely  about  their  neighbors' 
business.  Now  and  then  a  thief,  or  a  burglar,  or  a  receiver 
of  stolen  goods,  or  even  a  murderer,  was  brought  out  of 
some  den,  and  no  one  was  surprised.  Children  lost  their 
childlike  attributes,  women  became  either  slaves  or  fiends, 
and  dropped  into  graves  unremarked.  It  might  have  been 
leagues  away  from  civilization,  and  yet  luxury  was  its  next- 
door  neighbor.  So  do  extremes  meet  in  great  cities. 

For  Nora,  every  breath  was  terror.  The  denizens  of  the 
street  filled  her  with  wildest  alarm,  and  the  halls  and  stairs 
were  thronged  with  a  continual  procession  of  strange  faces. 
Ann  Rooney  gave  her  a  little  motherly  care,  —  coarse,  yet 
with  a  certain  tenderness.  Mother  Mell  knocked  her 
about,  and  Tim  was  away  most  of  the  time.  Indeed,  she 
was  a  kind  of  white  elephant  on  the  lad's  hands.  She 
knew  no  slang,  she  could  not  laugh  at  the  rough  fun, 
she  cried,  and  begged  him  continually  to  find  Maggie ; 
while  he,  in  his  shrewd  way,  began  to  fancy  the  child 
purposely  set  adrift  in  a  great  city.  He  would  get  no 
reward,  and  his  step-mother  scolded  at  his  bringing  home 
the  good-for-nothing  helpless  brat. 

He  was  amazed   at  his  father's  sudden  fancy  for  her. 


MOTHER  HEL.I/8  STRATAGEM.  51 

Just  now  the  elder  Chafhey  had  plenty  of  money,  and  was 
jolly  accordingly.  The  child  had  awakened  some  long- 
slumbering  chord,  and  though  his  attempts  were  rough 
and  clumsy,  the  evident  affection  won  Nora.  When  she 
came  out  of  her  chamber  and  found  herself  greeted  with 
a  smile,  she  sprang  to  his  side  and  seized  his  hand. 

Mother  Mell  turned  quickly  and  glared  at  her. 

"Come, none  o'  that, old  woman!"  he  said  sternly;  «*yer 
ought'er  be  proud  o'  yer  han'sum  darter." 

"  She's  no  darter  o'  mine,  I'll  let  yer  know!  An*  if  yer 
mean  to  keep  the  beggar's  brat"  — 

"  Well,  I  do.  Ef  you've  got  anything  to  say  agin  it  say 
it  all  now.  Never  you  fear,  chicken,"  to  Nora,  tt  Come, 
out  with  it." 

She  gave  a  loud,  forced  laugh,  and  turned  away.  She 
had  carried  the  marks  of  her  husband's  fist  before  now,  and 
to-day  she  had  no  mind  for  a  bruised  or  swollen  face.  Be- 
side, she  could  take  a  better  revenge  than  that. 

"  Tain't  every  gal  that  gets  as  good  a  daddy,  an*  I  hope 
she'll  be  grateful  and  turn  out  well.  But  I've  got  no  money 
for  breakfast.  What  '11  you  have  ?w 

He  flung  the  money  across  the  table,  and  told  her  to  suit 
herself.  While  she  was  gone,  Nora  began  to  tidy-up  the 
room  and  wash  the  dishes  left  from  the  night  before.  Gen- 
tleman Chaffy  watched  her  with  a  curious  interest. 

"She's  too  nice  for  this  place,  an'  Mell  an'  me,"  he 
thought.  "  She  ought'er  be  a  lady.  If  I  could  put  her  to 
school,  or  in  some  good  home  —  there's  enough  shameless 
devils  now  a'thout  her  being  dragged  down  with  them, 
and  she'll  be  a  main  han'sum  gal.  An'  I'd  like  to  see  her 
now  an'  then,  and  feel  that  she'd  care  a  little  about  what 
I'd  be  a  doin'  for  her.  Mell  'ill  never  like  her,  that's  sure. 
T won't  do  for  her  to  try  any  of  her  tricks  when  I'm  round, 
but  she  would  be  a  very  devil  on  the  sly." 

She  entered  at  that  moment  and  amazed  him  by  praising 


52  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

Nora,  who  glanced  up  timidly,  and  then  proceeded  with  the 
breakfast. 

"  I  hope  yer  don't  'xpect  me  to  stay  in  the  house  all  the 
while  and  nuss  yer  darter,  do  yer?"  she  asked  with  a 
coarse  laugh.  "  'Cause  I  want  to  go  up-town  a  spell  this 
moruin'." 

The  new  father  was  much  relieved  at  hearing  this.  Per- 
haps Mell  wouldn't  take  it  so  hard  after  all. 

u  I'll  wash  the  dishes  for  you,"  said  Nora,  brightly,  for 
even  to  her  the  sky  seemed  clearing. 

«  Thank'ee,"  and  Mell  nodded.  "I'm  glad  to  see  yer 
willin'  to  help  yer  mammy." 

Nora  flushed,  and  hung  her  head.  Would  she  be  com- 
pelled to  call  this  coarse  woman  mamma  ?  If  she  could 
but  find  Maggie  she  would  be  willing  now  to  give  her  the 
endearing  title,  but  Mother  Mell  was  too  terrible  to  love. 
And  then  the  tears  filled  her  eyes. 

Mell  dressed  herself  in  her  best  finery  and  went  off,  her 
husband  walking  with  her  to  the  corner. 

Nora  crept  up  stairs  once.  Ann  Rooney  was  washing, 
and  not  in  a  very  good  humor.  The  baby  was  asleep, 
the  other  two  children  in  the  street.  But  the  dirty  side- 
walk and  noisy  crowd  had  no  charm  for  her,  so  she  sat 
down  by  the  window,  and  looked  at  the  dense  rows  of 
houses.  Would  she  ever  have  courage  to  start  by  herself 
and  find  Broadway,  and  look  the  long  day  through  for 
Maggie  ? 

The  intense,  awful  loneliness  of  the  child  is  hardly  to 
be  described.  So  tenderly  kept  heretofore,  so  delicately 
reared  and  housed,  and  used  to  the  most  exquisite  cleanli- 
ness, that  this  was  hourly  martyrdom.  For  although 
wealth  and  its  surroundings  had  not  been  her  portion, 
there  had  been  no  hard,  grinding  poverty,  and  the  little 
cottage  home  had  been  a  nest  of  beauty  and  fragrance, 
such  as  taste  and  industry  can  create  for  itself.  She  tried 
to  interest  herself  in  a  pictorial  paper,  then  she  watched 


MOTHER  HELL'S  STRATAGEM.  53 

the  people  from  the  window,  and  at  last  Tim  made  his 
appearance,  and  treated  her  to  a  walk,  and  some  straw- 
berries. 

Mell  came  home  in  high  spirits.  It  was  evident  to  Tim 
and  his  father  that  she  had  been  drinking,  but  Nora  only 
felt  that  she  shrank  in  disgust  from  something,  and  dreaded 
to  have  the  fierce  eyes  turned  upon  her,  with  their  threat* 
ening  aspect. 

The  next  morning  Mell  washed  and  ironed  Nora's  white 
dress,  sadly  changed  indeed  from  its  pristine  snowiness. 
Gentleman  Chaffy  hung  around  the  house  until  after  din- 
ner, deciding  that  Mell  was  quite  reasonable,  and  offering 
to  take  her  to  a  dance  that  evening.  She  might  almost 
have  relented  in  her  evil  purpose,  but  he  stooped  to  kiss 
the  child,  and  then  her  resolve  was  sealed. 

"  So  Tim  h'aint  found  ye'r  Maggie  yet ! "  Mell  said,  with 
a  leer. 

"  But  I  think  he  will,  sometime,"  and  Nora's  lip  quivered, 
as  she  averted  her  face. 

"  Wouldn't  yer  like  to  take  a  look  yerself  *  Now  what's 
to  hinder  us  both  a-goin'  out — over  to  Broadway?  We'd 
see  the  fine  swells  anyhow,  an'  we  could  look  in  the  win- 
ders, —  they  don't  charge  nothin'  for  that." 

"  Oh,  could  we  go,  really  ?  "  and  the  little  face  glowed. 

"To  be  sure  we  could.  Here's  yer  clean  frock,  an' 
mebbe  I'd  best  comb  out  yer  hair.  Looks  nice  like,  and 
Bhinin'." 

Mrs.  Rooney  had  tucked  it  into  a  net.  Nora  had  tried  a 
little  to  curl  it,  but  with  poor  success.  Mell's  ungentle 
hands  made  Nora  cry  out  with  pain  now  and  then,  it  was 
such  a  mass  of  neglected  tangles.  But  after  a  while  it 
was  made  more  presentable,  and  then  she  was  dressed. 

Mell  looked  out  of  the  window.  It  was  very  hot,  and 
the  street  was  well-nigh  deserted.  She  put  on  her  bonnet, 
and  the  child  followed  her  obediently. 

"  Now  you  jest  run  up  to  the  corner,  quick.     I  want  to 


54  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

tell  Mrs.  Rooney  where  we're  goin',  so's  yer  new  daddy 
wont  get  in  a  tantrum. n 

tt  But  I'll  wait  here  for  you." 

"No,  go  up  to  the  corner.  Go  quick,  or  I  won't  stir  a 
step." 

"You  do  mean  to  come?  You  will  not  leave  me  all 
alone  ? "  and  the  child's  eyes  were  wild  with  a  new 
terror. 

"You  little  fool!  Couldn't  yer  find  yer  way  back? 
Go  quick ! "  and  she  gave  her  a  push. 

Nora  started.     Mell  ran  back  up-stairs. 

"Mrs.  Rooney!"  she  called,  "I'm  goin'  out,  and  the 
child's  at  play  in  the  street.  Will  ye  jist  keep  an  eye  on 
her,  for  the  old  man  'ud  be  tearing  if  anything  happened 
to  her;  an'  ye'll  tell  him,  if  he  comes  home  first.  I  want 
to  get  a  bit  o'  finery  for  the  dance  to-night,  and  to  see  a 
friend." 

"Yes,"  answered  Mrs.  Rooney,  crooning  her  baby  to 
sleep. 

Mell  took  a  glance  at  the  street  door.  Nora  was  look- 
ing back  longingly.  She  walked  along  at  a  rapid  pace,  not 
even  noticing  the  child's  outstretched  hand,  and  plunged 
down  a  side  street. 

"Oh,  wait!  wait!"  cried  Nora. 

"  Shet  yer  head,  'r  I'll  knock  it  off!  There,  none  o'  yer 
bawlin',  or  yer5!!  march  straight  back  home.  Come  along 
quiet." 

Try  her  best,  Nora  could  not  keep  up.  She  was  in  wild 
affright  lest  Mother  Mell  meant  to  lose  her.  But  she 
paused  suddenly. 

"  We're  goin'  to  get  in  this  ere  car.  Here's  some  pen- 
nies for  yer  fare  when  the  man  comes  along.  Now  don't 
say  nothin'  to  me." 

Nora's  heart  beat  with  unwonted  fear.  She  hardly 
dared  look  at  Mell  until  the  car  stopped,  and  they  were 


MOTHER  MELL'S  STRATAGEM.  55 

let  ont.  But  Mell  hailed  another  in  a  moment,  and  as 
there  were  but  few  passengers  she  unbent  a  little. 

"  We'll  be  there  afore  very  long,"  she  said  ;  "  an'  you'll 
be  glad  to  see  Maggie." 

"Oh,  shall  I  see  her,  truly?"  and  Nora's  face  was  all 
one  eager  flush.  "  Do  you  know  where  she  is  ?  " 

"  She's  at  a  house  where  I'm  goin'.     She's  been  sick." 

"  Oh,  has  she  ? "  My  dear,  dear  Maggie  ?  Is  she  sick 
now  ?  Who  found  her  for  you  ?  " 

"  I  found  her  myself; "  with  a  confident  nod. 

Little  Nora  was  in  a  maze.  She  could  hardly  believe  it. 
She  wanted  to  go  on  asking  questions,  but  the  hard  face 
before  her  was  not  encouraging.  Presently  they  stopped 
again. 

Mell  took  her  by  the  hand  now,  and  they  walked  a  few 
blocks,  stopping  before  a  small  groggery.  She  led  the  way 
up  an  alley,  and  entered  at  a  side  door,  a  bell  sounding  to 
announce  them.  The  room  was  large,  with  a  sanded  floor, 
a  few  card-tables  with  chairs  around  them,  some  pictures 
of  fast  horses  and  several  rather  notorious  characters.  A 
large  dog  lay  in  one  corner,  who  raised  his  head  and 
growled,  but  took  no  further  notice  of  them.  Then  an- 
other door  opened,  and  a  man  entered. 

Nora  clung  closer  to  Mother  Mell,  and  grasped  her 
hand. 

The  new  comer  was  a  most  repulsive-looking  person. 
Barely  average  size,  he  had  a  stoop  in  the  shoulders  that 
gave  him  a  crouching  appearance.  His  eyes  were  small, 
black,  and  keen ;  his  grizzled  hair  fell  over  a  low  forehead ; 
his  mouth  was  wide,  with  dull,  swollen  lips,  and  his  ragged 
teeth  looked  like  fangs.  A  foreigner,  evidently;  but  it 
seemed  as  if  all  nationalities  had  resolved,  by  the  absence 
of  any  distinctive  features,  to  disown  him.  French,  Ger- 
man, and  Italian  languages  he  knew  equally,  and  had 
grafted  a  patois  of  all  upon  the  English.  Insignificant  as  he 
and  his  place  seemed,  they  were  well  known  to  the  "  fancy," 


56  LOST  IN  A    GREAT   CITY. 

and  had  been  more  than  once  suspected  by  the  police,  bnt 
the  most  vigorous  search  had  failed  to  bring  anything  to 
light.  And  yet  there  went  in  and  out  of  the  den  property 
of  the  most  valuable  kind,  and  Louis  Retzer  seemed  able 
to  negotiate  almost  everything,  from  stolen  diamonds  to  a 
lady's  lap-dog. 

"  Ah,"  he  said,  rubbing  his  hands  and  showing  his  teeth, 
"  good-day,  Madame !  Is  zis  ze  little  girl  ?  " 

"Yes;  she  has  come  to  see  Maggie,"  and  Mell  gave 
the  man  a  wink.  "  Stand  up,  child !  Don't  lean  agin  me 
BO.  Nobody's  goin'  to  eat  you  up!"  and  she  gave  her  a 
little  push. 

"  Ah — h  ; "  and  he  took  a  survey  of  the  trembling  child. 
"Zis  hair  is  all  real!"  taking  the  silken  mass  in  his  hands. 

"Oh,  don't!  don't!"  screamed  Nora,  springing  away 
like  a  frightened  fawn. 

Mell  laughed  loudly.  "  She  won't  be  so  techy  in  a  few 
years,"  she  said.  "  Yes,  it's  the  true  stuff,  and  all  fast  in 
her  head.  Why,  that's  worth  a  sight  of  money." 

"Does  ze  little  girl  dance  or  sing?" 

"  She  could  learn,  I  s'pose,"  said  Mell,  shortly.  "  There's 
her  hansum  face  in  her  favor.  I'm  sure  she  could  be  hired 
out  o'  nights ;  but  she's  come  to  see  Maggie.  Mebbe  yer 
better  send  her  up-stairs.  Maggie 's  sick  in  bed,  and  can't 
come  down;"  and  Mell  put  on  a  queer,  knowing  look. 

Nora  glanced  wildly  from  one  to  the  other.  Young  as 
she  was,  she  distrusted  them  both. 

"  Come  with  me,"  said  Retzer. 

Nora's  heart  swelled  up  to  her  throat,  and  her  slight 
frame  trembled.  Should  she  refuse? 

"  If  you  don't  want  to  go  and  see  Maggie,  we  may  as 
well  go  back  then,"  said  Mell,  rising. 

"  Oh,  I  do !  I  do ! "  the  child  cried,  convulsively.  "  But 
come  with  me.  I  don't  like  him.  I  am  afraid  — " 

"  Ze  little  lady  need  not  be  afraid  of  me,"  said  Retzer, 
with  hideous  blandness.  "  Come  up-stairs  to  poor  Maggie, 


MOTHER  HELL'S  STRATAGEM.  5? 

who  is  sick  in  ze  bed,  and  who  want  her  little  girl.     She 
haf  orange  and  sugar-plum." 

He  opened  the  door.  Nora  gave  one  questioning  glance 
at  Mell,  but  the  stony  face  repulsed  her.  Then  she  fol- 
lowed up  the  well-worn  stairs.  She  had  grown  so  used  to 
dingy  holes  and  vile  smells  that  she  scarcely  noticed  this. 

"Here!" 

She  walked  timidly  into  the  room.  The  door  was  closed 
and  locked  behind  her.  Retzer  took  a  stride  or  two  down 
the  stairs,  chuckling. 

"Well,"  exclaimed  the  woman,  "ain't  she  a  picter?" 

"  Ze  little  girl  is  very  fair,  and  haf  beautiful  hair,  and 
nice,  very  nice  legs.  But  she  do  not  know  how  to  dance, 
and  she  will  be  wild  like  a  cat." 

"  You  can  tame  her  easy  enough.  A  few  lashes  will  do 
up  the  bizness  ;  and  she'll  soon  learn  to  dance.  Gals  allus 
take  to  it  naterally.  She'd  do  for  stage  bizness  j"  and 
a  coarse  laugh  ended  the  sentence. 

"Well,  what  you  take  for  zis  child,  ha?" 

"  Fifty  dollars,"  answered  Mell,  complacently. 

"Feefty  dollars!    Feefty  devils  I    Why,  sao  never  y- 
worth   that  money,  nevarel     She  know  noting-  sbr   •*• 
cross  and  sick,  maybe,  and  I  get  iryse.     r    ;ror.Oie.     Per- 
haps zis  Maggie  make  a  search." 

Mell  laughed  long  and  loud.  "Maggie!  Well,  she 
hasn't  put  in  any  claim,  so  far,  nor  even  her  precious  self; 
and  my  Tim,  he's  scoured  the  place  all  round.  She 
dropped  the  brat.  The  mammy's  dead,  y'  see,  and  the 
daddy's  missin',  and  the  gal  didn't  want  to  keep  her.  I  d'n 
know, —  I  might  find  some  folks  to  'dopt  her,  seein'  she's 
so  hansum ;  or  I  could  send  her  to  the  island.  But  I 
thought  ther'  might  be  some  money  in  the  brat,  and  we 
might  both  do  a  bit  o*  bizness.  Ther'  ain't  a  mite  o'  risk, 
and  ef  you'll  do  things  square,  you  may  have  her;  if  not, 
Fll  take  her,  and  be  goin'." 

But  Retzer  would  not  hear  to  this.     He  insisted  that  if 


58  LOST  IN   A   GEEAT  CITY. 

he  put  the  child  out  he  would  not  make  more  than  a  dollai 
a  week,  and  there  would  be  the  chance  of  her  dying  before 
she  had  paid  for  herself.  They  haggled  and  argued,  and 
finally  Mell  consented  to  take  forty  dollars,  and  the  money 
was  counted  out,  both  confederates  swearing  secrecy. 

Mell  stopped  on  her  way  home  and  purchased  some 
tawdry  finery  and  a  new  gilt  necklace.  Then,  as  an  after 
thought,  she  bought  a  calico  slip  for  the  child,  and  a  box 
of  gaily  colored  candies,  the  better  to  ward  off  suspicion. 

Tim  confronted  her  on  the  doorstep. 

"Did  you  take  Nora? "  he  cried.  " She's  never  been  in 
the  house,  and  Mrs.  Rooney  's  not  seen  a  sight  of  her.  An' 
if  yer  didn't,  she's  lost  agin." 

"Lost!"  and  Mell  stopped  suddenly.  "Lost!  Yer 
don't  mean  the  child?  Oh, Tim,  whatever  will  yer  daddy 
say  ?  Run  up  an'  down  the  street  and  find  her  afore 
he  gets  in.  An'  I've  bought  her  a  new  gown  an'  some 
goodies." 

"  I've  run,  an*  run !  No  one  *s  seen  her.  She  ain't  been 
playin'  with  no  children.  And  there's  the  guv'ner." 

He  was  coming  down  the  street  with  his  swaggering 
step,  his  tall,  brawny  figure  the  more  conspicuous  among 
the  dwarfed  and  half-starved  denizens  of  this  section.  A 
triumphant  smile  crossed  Mell's  face  as  she  thought  how 
slyly  she  had  outwitted  him. 

"  Tim,  yer  don't  think  she  could  have  gone  out  over  to 
Broadway  after  her  Maggie?" 

"  Well,  I  hain't  thought  o'  that,  but  I  guess  she  has,  arter 
all.  Why  didn't  I  run  over  there  first.  Oh,  won't  the  guv- 
'ner swear ! " 

They  both  began  with  the  bad  news  in  a  breath.  Mell 
displayed  the  gown  and  said  Nora  coaxed  so  to  be  let  out 
in  the  street  a  while ;  that  she  had  seen  her  on  the  corner 
last,  —  and  then  she  rushed  up  to  Mrs.  Rooney  and  be- 
rated her  for  her  carelessness.  Dennis,  being  home,  took 
hie  wife's  part  and  ordered  Mell  out  of  bis  sight,  and  the 


MOTHER  HELL'S   STRATAGEM.  59 

affair  ended  in  a  fracas  of  blows.  Gentleman  Chaffy  was 
rather  sullen  afterward,  and  refused  to  accompany  Mell 
to  the  dance,  but,  nothing  daunted,  she  went  alone. 

"  Ye  may  as  well  look  for  a  needle  in  a  haystack  as  that 
gal !  You'll  never  set  eyes  on  her  again,"  muttered  Mell 
as  she  strode  up  the  street. 

Tim  searched  the  next  day,  but  it  was  of  no  avail,  and 
then  he  philosophically  concluded  the  young  'un  had  been 
all  plague  and  no  profit.  So  he  plied  his  daily  avocations 
with  a  light  heart.  Carrying  a  gentleman's  valise  late  one 
afternoon,  he  found  himself,  when  he  had  finished  his 
errand,  face  to  face  with  a  policeman,  and  his  arm  in  a 
tight  grasp. 

"  I've  been  looking  for  a  chap  of  your  size  and  capabili- 
ties," began  McBride  quizically.  "  Just  step  over  here,  and 
let's  have  a  little  talk." 

"  I  hain't  done  nothin*  but  turn  an  honest  penny,  so  yer 
lem'me  be !  Yer  hain't  got  no  show  to  jug  a  feller  for 
that." 

And  yet  Tim's  heart  misgave  him  a  little  for  past  deeds, 
and  his  keen  eye  glanced  furtively  around  for  a  chance  of 
escape. 

"  Ha !  ha  1  laughed  McBride.  A  guilty  conscience  is  it, 
my  lad  ?  You  know  you  deserve  it.  But  this  time  it 
isn't  an  old  gent  who  has  lost  his  wallet.  It's  a  chance  for 
you  to  make  a  little  money." 

"  Hi !  I'm  yer  chap,  then  I "  and  his  stolid,  sullen  ex> 
pression  quickly  changed  to  one  of  interest. 

"  Here.  I  daren't  let  go  of  you  tricky  eels,"  and  the 
man  brought  him  up  in  a  corner  by  a  turn  of  his  jacket 
collar.  "  Now,  I  want  you  to  tell  me  the  solemn  truth, 
if  you  don't  I'll  have  you  caged  for  a  little  matter  of  a 
month  or  so  ago,  that  I  know  all  about;"  and  there  was 
a  confident  nod  given  to  emphasize  the  statement.  "  You 
are  the  chap  that  was  bothering  about  a  lost  child,  and  a 
girl  named  Maggie  ?  " 


60  LOST  IN  A   GREAT  CITY. 

"Yes,"  cried  Tim  eagerly."    Oh,  have  you  found  her?" 

a  That  we  have.  She  was  run  over  and  taken  to  a  ho& 
pital." 

"  Oh,  she  wasn't  killed,  was  she  ?  The  guv'ner  took  an 
awful  likin'  to  her,  and  'dopted  her.  Tell  yer,  wasn't  he 
swearin'  mad  when  Ann  Rooney  let  her  go  out  and  get 
lost.  An'  I'm  mighty  glad ! " 

"  What  are  you  talking  about  ?  "  asked  McBride. 

"Why,  the  little  gal,  Nora." 

"  That's  just  the  one  I  do  want  to  know  about.  The 
woman 's  in  the  hospital,  and  a  gentleman  wants  to  find 
the  child.  He  has  offered  a  reward.  Come  now,  take  me 
to  the  place." 

"A  reward.  Dang  it!  that's  jist  my  luck!"  and  he 
slapped  his  ragged  knee.  "  I'm  never  in  at  the  hangin', 
-i  when  <fouc  dot!ie8  are  handed  round.  The  gal  is  gone, 
-ust  agin  . 

" Oh  -cine  now,  that's  gammon.  You  know  where  the 
cnild  is,"  said  McBride  confidently. 

u  I  wish  I  did,"  and  he  uttered  a  glib  oath.  **  An'  a 
reward?  How  much?" 

"  More  than  you'll  get  by  keeping  back  the  truth.  Come 
now,  own  up.  The  child  cannot  be  of  any  account  to 
you." 

"  But  I  tell  you  she  is  gone.  Las'  Friday  'twas.  Mother 
Mell  went  out  an'  left  her  playin'  on  the  sidewalk,  and 
Ann  Rooney  was  to  keep  an  eye  on  her.  An'  by  night 
she  was  gone.  I'm  tellin'  a  gospel  truth  ; "  though  what  a 
gospel  truth  was  would  have  puzzled  Tim  fully  as  much  as 
Nora's  disappearance. 

McBride  did  not  believe  a  word.  He  was  well  versed 
in  the  tricks  of  street  arabs.  These  people  would  want  to 
make  the  best  bargain  possible,  and  haggle  all  night  about 
a  sixpence.  He  would  nip  this  in  the  bud. 

"  Tell  me  where  you  live,  my  lad." 

"  Over  on  the  east  side,  Water  Street." 


MOTHER  HELL'S  STRATAGEM.  61 

"Now  the  number,  and  your  father's  name,  if  you  possess 
such  an  article." 

Tim  complied  with  a  little  hesitation. 

"  Now,  my  lad,  you  must  march  off  to  the  station  for  a 
few  hours.  I  shall  send  over  to  see  whether  you  have 
told  the  truth  or  not.  And  this  Mr.  Byington  wants  to  have 
an  interview  with  you.  If  you  know  anything  about  this 
lost  girl  you  had  better  make  a  clean  breast  of  it,  or  it  will 
be  worse  for  you." 

"  I  don't  know  nothing"  rejoined  Tim,  angrily,  feeling 
that  he  had  somehow  been  outwitted ;  and  he  was  not  sure 
what  was  behind  it  all. 


62  LOST   IN   A   GRKAT   CITY. 


CHAPTER  VL 

BAFFLED. 

MR.  BYINGTON  found  Tim  at  the  station,  rather  sulky, 
and  a  good  deal  frightened.  A  detective  had  been  de- 
spatched to  the  abode  of  the  paternal  Chafney,  and  he 
awaited  the  result  with  much  anxiety,  meanwhile  drawing 
the  whole  story  from  Tim,  who,  being  positively  assured  of 
his  safety,  became  more  communicative. 

The  story  certainly  bore  the  impress  of  truth.  Neither 
was  it  wonderful  that  people  in  their  position  should  have 
missed  the  advertisement.  Gentleman  Chaffy's  literary  in- 
terest was  bounded  by  a  Police  Gazette,  or  some  low  sport- 
ing sheet,  Mell  never  read  anything,  and  Tim  had  never  once 
imagined  that  any  one  was  looking  up  the  little  stray.  If 
it  had  been  a  wallet  with  valuable  papers,  now ;  but  in  his 
brief  experience  children  were  very  plenty,  and  not  much 
sought  after,  rather  at  a  discount,  indeed.  Then  Nora  had 
no  rich  jewelry,  or  clothes,  that  spoke  of  grand  connections. 
Maggie  had  hesitated  no  little  between  a  natural  love  of 
finery  and  a  sense  of  propriety.  Real  ladies  never  wore 
jewels  or  gay  attire,  though  Mrs.  Waldeburgh  had  said, 
"  Don't  put  any  mourning  on  my  dear  darling,  Maggie. 
I  don't  want  her  last  remembrance  of  me  to  be  one  of 
gloom."  Still  the  girl  had  felt  there  must  be  some  token. 
So  she  had  dressed  her  in  her  plainest  clothes,  and  com- 
promised matters  by  a  black  sash-ribbon.  She  could  hardly 
be  taken  for  a  rich  man's  daughter,  and  her  simple  story 
brought  no  vision  of  friends  and  rewards.  But  Tim  felt, 
now,  that  his  first  impression  of  her  was  correct ;  that  the 
nameless  grace  of  refinement  he  could  neither  understand 


BAFFLED.  63 

nor  explain  connected  her  with  wealth  in  some  mysterious 
manner. 

The  detective  returned  about  nine  in  the  evening.  He 
had  interviewed  everybody,  questioned  everybody,  and 
learned  nothing.  The  whole  street  had  seen  the  child  on 
the  sidewalk,  or  thought  they  had,  and  from  this  point  con- 
jecture ran  wild.  An  old  woman  was  enticing  her  down 
the  street;  a  mysterious  man  had  beguiled  her  into  a 
horse-car ;  she  had  followed  a  group  of  children ;  in  short, 
everything  probable  and  improbable. 

"  That  was  Friday,"  said  Mr.  Byington,  "  and  to-day  is 
Tuesday.  I  think  we  will  take  another  search  among  the 
various  Homes  and  Institutions,  and  continue  the  advertise- 
ment. And  now,  Tim,  my  lad,  look  your  very,  sharpest. 
I  will  make  the  reward  a  thousand  dollars  to  whoever  finds 
the  child.  You  would  know  her  anywhere?" 

"  That  I  would,  sir.  You  don't  mean  all  that  money, 
sir  ?  Why,  it  would  be  a  fortin' ! " 

"  All  that.  And  here  is  a  five-dollar  bill  to  start  you 
with.  Here  is  my  business  address,  also.  Come  to  me 
with  the  least  tidings." 

"  Thank  'ee,  sir.  I'll  do  my  best  for  so  gen'rous  a  gent, 
sir.  An'  may  I  go  now  ?  " 

"  There  is  no  charge  against  the  boy  ?  w 

u  Oh,  of  course  not." 

Tim  pulled  the  ragged  rim  of  his  hat,  flew  around  the 
corner  like  the  wind,  stood  on  his  head,  gave  a  wild  whoop, 
and  executed  a  double-shuffle  in  quick  succession.  A 
thousand  dollars!  Could  the  guv'ner  snivy  on  it,  he 
wondered  ?  And  how  would  it  do  to  go  West  somewhere, 
and  buy  out  a  gold  mine  at  once  ? 

Mother  Mell  was  astounded  at  the  amount  of  the  re- 
ward. She  kept  her  own  counsel,  however,  and  the  next 
morning  had  an  important  errand  "'cross  town,"  so  afraid 
was  she  of  Tim  suspecting  her.  After  a  roundabout  jour- 
ney she  reached  the  abode  of  Louis  Retzer. 


64  LOST   IN   A   GREAT  CITY. 

He  received  her  with  that  half-suspicious  suavity  that  so 
characterized  him,  and  his  astute  eyes  expressed  the 
wonder  that  he  would  not  allow  to  pass  his  lips. 

"  Yer  main  amazed  to  see  me,  no  doubt,  so  soon  agen, 
but  the  boss,  he  wor  awful  mad  about  th'  little  gal.  I 
didn't  know  he  had  his  heart  so  sot  upon  her.  An'  now 
he's  raisin'  blue  blazes,  an'  stirin'  up  the  place  right  an' 
left.  I  only  said  she  wor  lost,  an'  so  I've  come  to  git  her 
Iback  agen.  I'll  give  yer  money  and  add  a  ten  spot  to  it, 
good  enough  interest,  I'm  sure." 

He  rubbed  his  grimy  hands  with  provoking  blandness, 
and  eyed  her  with  suspicious  cunning. 

"I  am  sorry,  madame.  Ze  child  was  taken  away  ze 
same  evening,  I  believe  to  —  to  Canada." 

"  Canada?     Is  it  far  off?     Couldn't  yer  write  ?  " 

M  Ze  man  —  I  do  not  know.  He  wanted  ze  little  girl  to 
adopt,"  and  Retzer  grinned.  "You  say  it  was  a  little 
beggar  wis  no  home,  and  no  folks,  and  so  I  zink  it  of 
not  much  importance,  so  zat  ze  little  girl  have  a  good 
home." 

He  looked  sharply  at  her,  as  if  he  would  solve  the  mean- 
ing  of  this  sudden  change.  Mell  Chafney  had  come  from 
no  feeling  of  pity  for  Nora.  She  caught  at  the  reward 
with  all  the  greed  of  ignorance  and  brutal  selfishness.  If 
she  confessed  to  Retzer,  he  could  not  only  claim  it  himself 
but  demand  the  money  he  had  paid  her. 

She  laughed  loudly.  "  That's  a  good  'un,  that  is,  but  it 
don't  go  down.  I  know  the  gal's  in  this  shanty." 

"Madame  may  search  if  she  chooses,"  and  the  man  gave 
a  provoking  leer. 

"I'll  have  a  peeler  here,  that  I  will,"  and  she  rose 
angrily.  •«  If  yer  don't  give  up  that  child  double  quick  it 
'11  be  wus  for  yer !  " 

"  How  can  I  when  I  have  not  got  it.  If  madame  had 
said  ze  child  was  so  precious.  But  madame  would  hardly 
have  ze  house  searched." 


BAFFLED.  65 

The  rough  woman  lost  her  bravado  under  the  fixed  look. 
There  were  too  many  secrets  between  them,  and  he  might 
trick  her  at  last. 

She  laughed  again,  hoarsely,  "  Come,  Retzer,  we've  been 
good  pals,  and  that  there  was  said  in  fun.  But  the  boss  '11 
beat  me  black  an'  blue  if  I  don't  find  that  child.  Say 
what  yer'll  take.  Would  a  hundred  do  now  ?  Not  as  I 
knows  where  I  could  get  so  much  sudden  like,  but  I  would 
do  it.  Did  I  ever  go  back  on  my  word  ?  An'  I've  been  a 
good  customer ;  come  now,  ain't  I  ?  " 

"  If  I  could  get  back  ze  child  I  would.  Perhaps  zis  Mag- 
gie know  something,"  and  he  put  on  a  thoughtful  air. 

"  Maggie  !  Oh,  I  ain't  such  a  flat  as  to  b'lieve  in  Maggie. 
She  shipped  the  young  'un  off  too  neat,  she  did.  An' 
'twould  n't  be  anything  to  me  then.  Why,  if  Maggie 
turned  up  yer  see  the  guv'ner  couldn't  keep  her." 

She  was  an  adept  in  lying,  this  woman,  and  now  she  de- 
ceived even  her  shrewd  accomplice.  Louis  Retzer  guessed 
that  she  had  been  offered  a  higher  price  for  the  child,  and 
chuckled  inwardly  at  his  own  bargain.  But  he  was  too 
wise  to  quarrel  with  his  customers. 

"I  might  wait  and  see.  If  zis  man  comeback  —  but  it 
might  be  one  long  while." 

"  Well,  then  you  can't.  I'm  awful  sorry.  I  was  a  bit 
jealous  at  first  because  the  boss  was  so  took  with  her,  but 
when  he  come  to  make  such  a  row  I  thought  Pd  try  her 
agen.  She  was  a  main  purty  brat,  now  warn't  she  ?" 

"Ze  man  who  took  her,  he  zink  so.  But  zare  are  many 
pretty  children  in  ze  street." 

Mell  rose,  feeling  that  she  had  been  outwitted,  and  that 
she  had  herself  largely  to  blame.  If  she  could  not  have 
the  reward,  then  good-bye  to  all  further  trouble.  And  she 
might  get  herself  into  some  scrape,  so  it  was  best  to  keep 
on  the  safe  side. 

Retzer  considered  a  while  after  she  was  gone.  He  had 
heard  the  child's  story,  and  did  not  think  it  remarkable. 
5 


66  LOST  IN  A  GREAT   CITY. 

She  had  been  used  to  no  very  great  degree  of  wealth  and 
luxury,  that  was  evident.  No  rich  relatives  were  likely 
to  come  to  light,  and  she  had  not  been  stolen.  He  had 
passed  on  children  for  various  purposes,  he  had  even  held 
some  for  rewards.  We  have  all  wept  over  the  horrors  of 
African  Slavery,  but  can  we  never  realize  that  there  is  a 
still  more  barbarous  system  of  slavery  in  our  midst  ?  In- 
nocent children,  in  the  hands  of  unprincipled  ruffians  who 
claim  them  soul  and  body,  who  hire  them  out  in  dens  of 
thieves,  in  low  gin-mills,  and  that  for  beauty  there  is  still 
a  lower  depth !  God  help  a  poor,  pretty  female  child ;  bet- 
ter a  thousand  times  that  she  had  never  been  born.  No, 
the  race  of  slave-stealers,  of  buyers  and  sellers,  are  not  yet 
extinct.  And  the  drifting  city  waifs  are  but  so  much  flot- 
sam and  jetsam  in  their  hands. 

The  thousand  dollars  might  have  moved  even  Retzer's 
stolid  nature,  but  it  did  not  reach  him.  Truly  no  place  is 
so  safe  for  misdeeds  as  a  great  city.  But  he  had  made  a 
very  good  bargain,  and  rubbed  his  hands  in  a  glow  of  satis- 
faction. 

Meanwhile  Tim  was  indefatigable.  He  peered  into  the 
face  of  every  yellow-haired  match-vender,  crossing-sweeper, 
or  street-musician.  Often  his  heart  beat  high  with  cer- 
tainty, but  a  second  look  brought  bitter  disappointment. 

Mrs.  Byington  lingered  in  the  city,  held  by  a  spell  of 
sympathy,  interest,  and  pity.  She  had  much  ado  to  com- 
fort poor  Maggie,  who  had  been  plunged  from  hope  to  the 
black  depths  of  despair. 

"  I  am  sure  she  cannot  be  living,"  the  girl  would  ex- 
claim. "You  see  she  is  old  enough  to  know  her  own  name 
and  story,  and  some  one  would  hear  it.  Oh,  my  poor,  poor 
darling!  how  can  I  ever  answer  to  your  father  for  my 
carelessness!" 

Maggie  was  recovering  rapidly  now,  though  her  face 
wore  a  strained  and  anxious  look,  and  every  new  voice 
startled  her.  Ellen  Brown  was  a  frequent  visitor  until 


BAFFLED.  67 

Maggie  was  well  enough  to  be  removed  to  her  cousin's 
house. 

"There  is  one  thing  you  could  do  for  me,"  she  said  to 
Mrs.  Byington.  "There  must  be  a  letter  from  Nora's 
father.  I  will  give  you  the  address,  and  if  Mr.  Byington 
would  take  the  trouble  to  get  it.  I  do  not  feel  quite  strong 
enough  to  venture  out." 

"  He  will  be  glad  to  do  it,  I  am  sure." 

The  letter  had  come.  Mr.  Waldeburgh  was  in  passion* 
ate  grief  at  the  tidings  of  his  wife's  death.  His  business 
was  progressing  favorably,  and  by  spring  he  would  be  able 
to  return  for  his  little  girl,  whom  he  charged  Maggie  to 
guard  with  the  best  of  care,  and  desired  her  to  obtain  a 
nice,  quiet  boarding-place,  where  she  could  devote  herself 
entirely  to  little  Nora.  He  enclosed  a  check  for  their 
immediate  expenses,  and  promised  to  send  more. 

"  Oh,  what  shall  I  do !  How  can  I  ever  tell  him?  "  and 
Maggie  wrung  her  hands  in  anguish. 

"  Perhaps  I  might  better  answer  the  letter,  Maggie,"  ex- 
claimed Mrs.  Byington.  "  Do  you  not  think  it  would  be  as 
well  not  to  say  anything  about  the  child's  loss  at  present. 
We  may  find  her.  I  cannot  seem  to  give  her  up.  I  might 
just  state  your  accident,  and  that  you  were  in  good  hands; 
that  friends  would  do  everything  that  was  possible  for  you 
and  Nora.  That,  you  see,  would  give  us  about  two  months 
again." 

"  Oh,  if  you  would  be  so  kind !  I  don't  think  I  could 
ever  write  at  all.  My  heart  would  break  in  the  midst  of 
it.  Oh,  ma'am,  you  have  been  as  an  angel  all  the  way. 
What  would  have  become  of  me  if  you  had  been  as  indif- 
ferent as  most  people  ?  " 

"  We  ought  to  try  to  make  all  amends  in  our  power. 
And  I  have  been  thinking  about  your  future,  Maggie.  Do 
not  consider  me  impertinent,  but  if  you  meant  to  depend 
upon  your  own  exertions  when  you  are  strong  enough,  I 
should  like  you  to  accept  some  position  in  my  household 


68  LOST  IN   A   GREAT  CITT. 

My  girl,  who  is  chambermaid  and  seamstress,  is  to  be  mar- 
ried shortly.  There  are  two  women  and  a  man  beside,  so 
the  duties  are  not  very  severe." 

"  Oh,  if  you  would  but  take  me ! "  and  her  eyes  filled  with 
grateful  tears. 

"  I  shall  really  be  glad  to.  I  feel  as  if  I  did  not  want  to 
lose  sight  of  you.  And  now  Mr.  Byington  insists  upon 
my  joining  my  sons  at  Niagara.  They  have  made  most  of 
their  summer  tour  without  me  while  I  have  been  so  inter- 
ested in  the  search  for  this  sweet  little  girl.  Will  you 
promise  to  come  about  the  first  of  September  ?  " 

"Indeed  I  will,  and  thank  you  most  kindly.  Oh,  if  my 
little  Nora  could  only  have  fallen  into  such  good  hands, " 
cried  Maggie,  with  deep  emotion. 

"  We  will  hope  for  the  best,"  returned  Mrs.  Byington.  "  I 
look  at  every  fair-haired  child  that  I  pass  in  the  street,  for 
it  seems  as  if  she  must  be  found.  No  one  would  have 
any  special  object  in  keeping  her." 

They  both  uttered  a  kindly  farewell.  Margaret  Donald 
missed  her  friend  and  visitor  sadly.  Ellen  Brown  could 
not  believe  that  the  child  was  alive.  They  discussed  the 
matter  endlessly,  but  Maggie  became  so  down-hearted  that 
she  began  to  look  forward  to  the  promised  change  with  a 
sense  of  relief. 

The  money  from  Nora's  father,  and  the  small  balance  on 
hand,  Maggie  deposited  in  the  bank  to  await  its  rightful 
owner.  The  twelve  hundred  she  had  received  she  thought 
of  with  a  feeling  of  horror.  If  that  had  been  all  between 
her  and  starvation,  she  would  have  died  sooner  than  touch 
a  penny  of  it. 

But  for  that  fateful  temptation  she  might  have  kept  bet- 
ter  watch.  The  other  claim  would  have  been  more  sacred. 
She  could  not  have  loved  Nora  better,  but  she  could  never 
forgive  herself  for  that  moment  of  vexation  and  impatience. 
She  had  been  wicked  to  covet  the  child  of  another,  and 


BAFFLED.  69 

the  instant  of  carelessness  had  brought  a  swift  and  bitter 
punishment. 

But  who  was  that  handsome,  evil  old  woman  ?  She  was 
signally  mistaken  in  her  estimate  of  Nora's  father,  that  was 
certain ;  and  it  afforded  Maggie  a  flush  of  triumph  in  the 
midst  of  her  pain. 

Oh,  poor,  sweet,  dainty  Nora !  Was  she  dead  ?  thrust 
into  a  nameless  grave?  Or  would  some  one  train  her  to  a 
coarse,  common  life,  make  her  a  little  servant,  or  a  slave ! 

God  help  her  wherever  she  was !  and  Maggie  fell  into  a 
passion  of  bitter  weeping.  "Visit  upon  me  any  pang,  any 
Borrow,"  she  prayed,  "  but  restore  her  to  a  father's  arms,  a 
father's  lov«." 


70  LOST  IN  A   GREAT  CITY. 


CHAPTER  VTL 

INTO  CAPTIVITY. 

WHEN  Nora  was  thrust  into  the  room,  and  the  door 
suddenly  locked  behind  her,  she  stood  a  few  moments  in 
great  fear.  The  semi-darkness,  the  couch  in  one  corner,  the 
deathly  stillness,  conspired  to  terrify,  so  that  her  breath 
came  only  at  intervals,  and  though  the  air  of  the  room  was 
stifling  she  shivered  with  icy  chills. 

The  window,  which  was  in  some  sort  of  a  recess,  was 
barred  and  then  grated,  and  dingy  at  that.  When  her 
eyes  became  accustomed  to  the  obscurity,  and  as  no  voice 
spoke  to  distract  her,  she  crept  softly  to  the  couch  in  the 
corner.  A  dirty,  ill-smelling  comfortable  was  thrown  over 
it,  but  there  was  no  person  there. 

"  Maggie,"  she  said  softly,  her  eyes  dilated  and  staring. 
«  Maggie." 

No  answer.  Indeed,  so  awesome  was  the  silence  that 
now  she  shook  with  terror.  She  could  not  even  cry,  though 
that  would  have  been  a  great  relief.  How  long  she  stood 
there  she  could  not  have  told ;  it  seemed  like  a  whole  day 
to  her,  only  it  grew  no  darker,  and  it  was  after  noon  when 
she  and  Mell  had  left  home. 

Child  as  she  was,  she  knew  she  had  been  betrayed.  The 
apathy  of  despair  came  over  her.  She  would  never  see 
Maggie  again.  Could  she  die  like  her  mamma,  and  be 
put  in  the  ground  ?  That  caused  a  sickening  shudder,  so 
natural  is  it  to  shrink  from  death.  But  mamma  went  to 
heaven.  Where  was  heaven,  then  ?  How  could  one  get 
up  to  the  beautiful  blue  sky  ? 

The  door  opened.     She  ran  to  the  farthest  corner,  and 


INTO   CAPTIVITY.  71 

hid  her  face  in  her  hands  as  if  to  shut  oat  the  next  step  in 
misery. 

"  I  will  not  hurt  you,  my  dear.  You  need  not  be  afraid. 
Maggie  is  not  here.  She  is  sick  at  ze  house  of  a  nice,  kind 
lady,  vare  you  will  go.  But  zis  woman,  Mell,  is  a  bad, 
wicked  creature,  and  not  want  you  in  her  house  any  more. 
Come,  will  you  not  have  a  cake  ?  " 

"No,  I  am  not  hungry ;"  and  she  shrank  away. 

"  You  will  not  be  afraid  to  go  wis  ze  nice  man,  ha  ?  "  and 
he  studied  her  with  eager  interest. 

"  Will  he  take  me  to  Maggie?" 

The  despairing  anguish  of  the  voice  might  have  touched 
a  heart  still  human,  but  Retzer's  was  not.  He  grinned 
now. 

"  Yes,  it  is  vat  he  comes  for.  And  now  if  you  will  walk 
down-stairs  and  wait." 

She  was  too  crushed  and  desolate  to  object.  The  pretty, 
imperious,  and  wilful  ways  seemed  to  have  vanished.  So 
she  followed  the  man  in  silence. 

There  was  a  window  in  this  room  that  looked  out  on  the 
dreary  alley-way  with  its  high  wall.  Nora  seated  herself 
by  it.  Something  in  her  quiet  dignity  awed  the  man,  and 
he  left  her  to  her  own  meditations  for  another  hour.  Then 
he  re-entered  with  a  companion. 

The  new  comer  was  a  man  of  average  size,  bnt  with  a 
certain  graceful  suppleness  compared  with  Retzer.  He 
was  well-looking,  too,  with  a  blond  beard,  hair  of  light 
brown,  a  rather  handsome  nose  and  mouth,  but  sharp,  de- 
cisive eyes  of  a  steely  blue,  and  a  sharp,  commanding  air. 

"  So  this  is  the  young  one,  is  it  ?  Well,  Retzer,  you 
haven't  lied  much  this  time.  Stand  up,  little  girl,  and  let's 
Bee  how  high  you  are." 

Nora  rose  with  a  quiet  dignity. 

«  And  how  old?" 

"  I  was  seven  in  May,  — before  mamma  died." 


72  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

"That's  rather  old;  you  can't  begin  training  too  soon,* 
he  said  to  Retzer. 

"But  she  is  very  small,  and  she  may  not  know  exact; 
and  if  she  do  not  suit  I  have  another  plan." 

"  Walk  out  here  in  the  floor,"  and  he  turned  her  sud- 
denly by  the  shoulder.  "  Were  you  ever  sick  ?  Do  you 
love  to  run  and  play  and  skip  with  other  children  ?  Can 
you  laugh  and  sing  and  brighten  up  if  the  way  is  clear?  " 

Nora  looked  at  him  with  her  large  pathetic  brown  eyes, 
in  which  there  was  a  wordless  entreaty  and  slow-coming 
tears  that  made  them  resemble  limpid  lakes  in  their  starry 
lustre.  The  scarlet  lips  quivered,  the  small  hands  seemed 
to  grasp  at  something,  but  she  did  not  reply. 

The  man  meanwhile  was  taking  an  inventory.  The  ele- 
gant figure,  the  shapely  limbs,  the  dainty  hands  and  feet, 
the  sweet,  childish  face.  Yes,  she  would  work  up  splen- 
didly. 

He  drew  Retzer  over  to  the  window,  and  commenced  in 
a  low  tone : 

"  She's  an  obstinate  little  thing,  as  you  see.  And  there's 
a  year  or  two  of  training,  and  the  chance  of  her  life.  Looks 
delicate,  I  should  say." 

u  Well,  if  you  do  not  like  her,  I  can  keep  her  myself. 
She  might  do  me  as  bar-maid.  Zat  face  might  bring  me 
much  custom." 

"  But  I  can't  pay  any  such  price.  Come  now,  you  are 
unreasonable." 

"  Zat  is  ze  price.     You  take  her  or  you  leef  her." 

"  Too  much,  too  much  1 "  with  a  laugh. 

"  Very  well ; "  and  Retzer  gave  a  nod  of  indifference. 

The  man  took  another  look. 

a  You  are  a  regular  Jew,  Retzer.  You  haven't  an  atom 
of  soul." 

"  I  am  not  in  religion,  I  am  in  business ; "  and  he  gave 
an  impatient  nod.  "  I  cannot  stop  to  talk,  and  what  you 
call  it  —  haggle  ?  n 


INTO  CAPTIVITY.  73 

"  Well,  well,  we  will  close  up  our  bargain.  I'll  never  see 
the  half  of  my  money  back,  may  be,  but  I  have  taken  a  fancy 
to  the  child." 

So  the  money  was  counted  out,  and  some  sort  of  a  re- 
ceipt signed  between  the  confederates. 

"  Now  we  will  be  off  to  Maggie,"  said  the  man,  holding 
out  his  hand. 

Nora  shrank  back.  She  had  not  heard  much  of  the  talk 
but  she  had  seen  the  money  change  hands,  and  she  dis- 
trusted them  both.  But  Retzer's  face  was  so  forbidding, 
that  almost  anything  promised  better  than  captivity  here 
She  might  be  locked  in  that  dreadful  room  up  stairs. 

w  Come ! "  impatiently ;  and  she  followed  him  through  a 
long,  dark  hall,  emerging  into  the  street.  The  daylight 
gave  her  a  sense  of  freedom  and  pleasure. 

He  lifted  her  into  the  buggy,  and  they  drove  away.  The 
journey  was  not  very  long  until  they  came  to  a  ferry.  She 
was  glad  to  sit  in  the  carriage  and  watch  the  people,  and 
every  moment  her  childish  heart  became  more  and  more 
at  ease.  Her  companion  talked  pleasantly,  and  drew  fronr 
her  the  simple  story  of  her  life,  glad  to  learn  that  she  knetf 
nothing  of  localities,  and  that  she  was  indeed  a  strangeij 
with  no  friends  likely  to  make  troublesome  inquiries. 

"And  you  will  take  me  to  Maggie?"  she  asked,  pres 
ently ;  her  earnest,  beautiful  eyes  aglow  with  hope,  and  he* 
hands  clasped  in  entreaty. 

"  Oh,  to  be  sure." 

His  laugh  fell  unpleasantly  on  Nora's  eager,  waiting  heart. 
She  did  not  know  why,  but  she  could  not  quite  believe. 
The  experience  of  the  last  few  weeks  was  making  her  wise 
and  distrustful  beyond  her  years. 

After  they  had  crossed  the  river  they  drove  through 
some  closely  built  streets  for  a  short  distance,  then  turned 
off  into  country  ways.  How  sweet  and  clean  the  air  seemed 
once  more !  And  there  was  a  bird  singing.  Here  were 


74  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

trees  and  shrubs,  long  stretches  of  grass,  a  few  road-side 
flowers,  —  oh,  how  delightful  I 

The  house  stood  quite  alone.  A  rather  shabby,  unpainted 
place,  with  shutters  at  the  lower  windows,  and  green  papers 
up-stairs.  A  large  dog  ran  out,  with  a  joyful  bark,  but  he 
only  received  a  cut  with  the  lash  for  his  reward.  Nora 
shivered  at  that. 

A  woman  opened  the  door,  and  a  dainty  white  spaniel 
followed  her.  There  was  something  of  the  hardness  of 
Mother  Mell  about  her  black  eyes,  though  she  was  younger, 
and  showed  no  traces  of  dissipation.  Indeed,  she  was  rather 
stylishly  dressed,  and  wore  a  profusion  of  ornaments. 

"  Oh,  you're  home  at  last,  Dick !  Supper 's  been  waiting 
this  ever  so  long,  and  the  meat 's  about  ruined.  Why  —  " 

"A  new  investment!  There,  what  do  you  think  of 
that?"  and  he  stood  Nora  on  the  board  walk  that  ran 
through  a  kind  of  front  garden.  "That  is  one  of  Retzer's 
bargains,  but  the  man  is  a  regular  old  screw.  This  is  your 
new  mammy,  my  love ; "  and  he  laughed  with  coarse  joc- 
ularity. 

Nora  looked  from  one  to  the  other,  in  a  frightened  man- 
ner, and  clasped  her  small  hands. 

"  She's  ever  so  much  prettier  than  Violetta ;  and  what 
splendid  hair!  She'll  make  a  stunning  fairy-queen  or 
sylph,  Dick." 

"  Well,  take  her  in  the  house,  and  don't  be  so  free  with 
your  tongue,  on  a  short  notice." 

Nora  followed,  tremblingly.  There  was  a  parlor,  in  which 
seemed  to  be  collected  something  from  the  four  quarters  of 
the  globe,  —  a  strange  medley  indeed.  In  the  next  room 
a  table  was  prepared  for  supper.  A  savory  smell  perme- 
ated the  apartment. 

"  Is  Maggie  here  ?  n  the  child  asked,  timidly. 

"  Maggie  ?    Lord,  no.     Who's  Maggie,  pray  tell  ?  " 

Nora's  feelings  and  hopes  had  been  on  the  utmost  stretch 
for  so  long,  and  now  the  awful  certainty  that  she  had  been 


INTO   CAPTIVITY.  75 

deceived  again  burst  over  her  with  the  force  of  a  rushing 
flood.  Every  prop  was  swept  away,  and  the  child  left 
utterly  defenceless. 

"  I  want  Maggie  ! "  she  sobbed  hysterically.  "  He  told 
me  she  was  here.  I  must  have  her,  I  must !  I  won't  stay. 
Let  me  go !  " 

"  Hoity  toity !  "What  a  little  tragedy-queen  it  is  I  My 
dear,  you'll  have  to  stay.  It's  night  you  see,  and  you'd 
get  lost  if  you  went  out." 

"But  I  want  to  get  lost!  I  want  to  die  and  go  to 
mamma !  I  don't  care  if  they  do  put  me  in  the  ground ! " 
and  she  pulled  away  from  the  woman. 

The  Spaniel  began  to  bark,  and  a  small  terrier  jumped 
down  from  his  cushion,  while  a  parrot  commenced  her 
shrill  screeching. 

"  Here,  what's  all  this  devil's  row  about,"  and  the  master 
of  the  house  administered  a  vigorous  kick  to  the  dogs. 
"  Blast  those  nuisances  1  Come,  come,  youngster,  shut  up 
now,  or  you  '11  get  a  taste  of  this  whip  1 "  and  he  dangled 
a  riding  whip  almost  in  Nora's  face.  "  Couldn't  you  let 
her  alone,  Kate  ?  " 

"She  began  a  asking  for  Maggie.  Dick,  it's  a  stolen 
child,  and  I  said  I'd  never  have  another  poor  innocent  torn 
from  its  mother's  arms.  Why,  its  worse  than  heathen 
slavery ! " 

"  Hold  your  jaw !  See  here,  now,"  and  he  lifted  Nora 
on  his  knee.  "  Maggie's  dead.  I'll  swear  to  that  fact  on 
the  Bible.  No  use  a  talking  about  her,  or  asking  for  her, 
you  can't  bring  dead  people  out  of  their  graves.  We've 
taken  you  now,  and  we'll  give  you  a  good  home,  and  make 
a  han'some  lady  out  of  you.  But  you've  got  to  stop  this 
confounded  crying,  or  I'll  thrash  you  within  an  inch  of  your 
life.  D'youhear?" 

"O,  don't,  Dick!  Poor  little  thing!  She'll  stop  pres 
ently!  She's  all  strange-like  now,  and  tired,  and  every 
thing.  You'll  send  her  into  hysterics." 


76  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

a  Then  Til  lick  her  out  of  them !  You're  not  going  to 
make  such  a  puling  brat  of  her  as  you  did  of  Vy.  'lome! 
are  you  going  to  hush  ?  " 

The  violence  of  the  paroxysm  had  already  spent  J'eelf. 
She  had  learned  so  much  repression  already,  this  poor  little 
Nora,  and  she  had  seen  the  children  so  mercilessly  bea>  «n 
while  at  Mother  Mell's,  that  she  shrank  with  terror. 

«*  Oh,  don't  whip  me  1 "  she  cried,  "  I  will  stop  1  I  wvl 
try!" 

"There,  that's  a  brave  little  woman.  Come,  there'i 
nothing  to  cry  about.  You  might  have  fallen  into  worsi 
hands.  Here's  a  nice  supper,  and  a  pudding,  I'll  swear, 
and  may  be  some  other  goodies.  And  this  is  your  new 
mammy,  Kate.  Maggie  couldn't  hold  a  straw  to  her. 
There !  Wash  her  face,  Kate,  and  come  along.  I'm 
devilish  hungry." 

Kate  washed  her  face,  and  pushed  the  hair  out  of  hei 
eyes,  then  led  her  to  the  adjoining  room.  A  girl  of  eigh- 
teen or  twenty  was  bending  over  the  stove  in  the  kitchen, 
and  now  brought  in  some  steaming  dishes.  She  had  a 
round,  stolid,  unmeaning  face,  but  was  a  trusty  servant,  th« 
better  suited  to  her  master  and  mistress  in  that  she  wa, 
both  deaf  and  dumb. 

As  Nora  glanced  around  she  took  a  little  courage.  If 
was  so  much  better  than  Mother  Mell's  dirty,  thriftless 
home.  There  was  an  untidy  look,  a  profuseness  oforna 
mentation,  much  of  it  tawdry,  yet  comfortable  and  cheer 
ing.  The  pictures  looked  like  old  friends.  The  bracket* 
with  their  vases  of  artificial  flowers,  or  plaster  statuettes, 
seemed  to  indicate  a  love  of  beauty,  if  not  very  pure 
taete. 

"Here!"  said  Kate,  kindly,  "you  shall  have  this  nice 
china  plate  and  mug,  with  pretty  roses  on  it.  Now  you 
are  going  to  be  my  good  little  girl,  and  not  cry  any  more, 
and  to-morrow  you  shall  see  sights  of  nice  things.  You'll 
Jike  living  here  with  me,  I  know. 


INTO   CAPTIVITY.  77 

Nora  swmlowed  a  sob.  She  hated  to  be  ungrateful. 
And  it  was  so  much  better  than  that  vile  city  den. 

Kate  kept  tiling  her  plate  with  choice  morsels.  She 
forced  herself  to  eat  a  little ;  Kate  and  Dick  went  on  with 
their  own  talk,  of  which  she  understood  nothing,  interlarded 
as  it  was  with  btes  of  French  and  German.  Afterward, 
Kate  held  her  on  her  lap,  and  showed  her  a  collection  of 
photographs  and  engravings,  mostly  of  actors,  singers,  and 
noted  gymnasts. 

"  This  was  Violetta.  But  she  didn't  have  such  hair  as 
you.  I  used  to  fix  false  curls  and  things  in  it  when  she 
went  on  the  stage,"  she  explained. 

"  Was  she  an  angel  ?  "  asked  Nora,  remarking  the  wings 
of  the  sylph-like  little  being  in  scant  gauzy  drapery. 

"An  angel  1  No  I"  and  the  woman  laughed  loudly; 
"  her  mother  was  a  stage  dancer,  but  the  poor  thing  died, 
and  we  took  Vy.  She  was  five  years  old  then.  She  was 
wonderful.  She  could  fly,  you  see.  It's  a  stage  trick,  my 
dear,  you'll  know  all  about  it  some  day.  But  there  was 
always  a  crowd  to  see  her.  And  she  could  do  tight-rope 
splendidly.  She  took  to  'em  all  quite  natural,  but  she  was 
a  poor  weakly  little  thing." 

"  Where  is  she  now  ?  " 

"Why,  she's  dead;  died,  let  me  see,  six  weeks  ago. 
She  was  flying  one  night,  and  she  fell  and  struck  her  head. 
I  told  Dick  she  wasn't  strong  enough.  You  see  she'd 
grown  so  weak  that  her  head  wasn't  steady.  But  Dick 
wouldn't  throw  up  the  engagement.  It  was  Donelly'a 
Circus,  and  we  were  West  just  then.  A  circus  always 
draws  best  in  country  places.  I  hope  you'll  like  it,  my 
dear." 

**  Like  what  ?  n  said  Nora,  with  intent  eyes. 

"  Why,  the  stage.  The  dancing,  the  flying  leaps,  and 
all  that.  You'd  look  gorgeous,  you  would,  with  all  this 
long  shining  goldy  hair,  and  your  great  black  eyes,  ami 
your  beautiful  hands  and  feet.  Wouldn't  you  like  to  be 


78  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

all  dressed  up  in  lace  and  roses,  and  in  the  midst  of  the 
lights  and  music?  It  sets  one  fairly  wild,  it  does.  Didn't 
you  ever  dance  any  ?  " 

"  Sometimes,  when  mamma  used  to  play." 

"  Let's  try  now.  I'll  wind  up  the  music  box,  and  we'll 
have  a  round  or  two.  I  hope  you'll  learn  easy.  You  see 
Dick  is  awful  stern.  No  matter  whether  it's  a  dog  or  a 
monkey,  or  any  animal,  or  even  a  child.  I  do  suppose  he 
could  make  lots  of  money  as  a  beast  tamer,  but  it's  awful 
dangerous.  You  see  it's  in  Dick's  eye.  Nothing  hardly 
dares  disobey  him.  Take  hold  of  my  hand,  now,  there,  so. 
Tra-la,  tra-la,"  and  she  whirled  the  child  around. 

The  music  was  very  inspiriting,  but  Nora  was  tired  and 
depressed.  Graceful  she  certainly  was,  but  it  was  a  child's 
untrained  grace.  The  wonderful  poses,  the  airy  balancing, 
and  wild  leaps,  she  knew  nothing  of. 

"Well,  I  think  you  can  learn,"  was  Kate's  verdict; 
"  only  you  will  have  to  be  mighty  spry.  The  tenth  of 
September  Dick  has  an  engagement  in  Chicago.  They're 
going  to  put  on  the  "  Fairy  Ring  "  again,  and  you'll  have 
to  take  a  name.  Let  me  see.  Titania,  you  know,  was 
queen  of  the  fairies,  —  I  mean  to  name  you.  You  never 
saw  it,  I  s'pose.  It's  just  elegant;  fairies,  and  nymphs, 
and  Bottom,  just  fit  to  make  you  split  yourself  laughing. 
And  oh,  such  music  and  dancing  I  I've  been  in  the  ballet 
myself.  If  I'd  been  real  han'some,  I'd  kept  on ;  but  you 
see  one  needs  to  be  young,  and  all  that;  and  you  get 
bouquets,  and  rings,  and  bracelets,  and  they  make  little  sup- 
pers for  you ;  and  it's  just  jolly  while  you  have  good  luck, 
and  keep  your  beauty.  But  the  managers  ship  you  off  so 
soon,  and  there's  always  dozens  to  take  your  place.  I  was 
in  love  with  Dick,  too,  —  a  whole  crowd  of  them  were, 
and  I  thought  it  was  nice  to  be  married.  I  did  take  him 
in  awfully,  though.  I  was  four-and-twenty,  but  I  swore  to 
nineteen.  You  see  the  life  ages  one  fast.  I've  never  been 
sorry  that  I  took  Dick,  though  I  do  a  stroke  of  business 


INTO   CAPTIVITY.  79 

now  and  then  for  myself.  And  I  have  real  diamonds,  — 
the  genuine  article;  earned 'em  myself;  and  I've  lots  of 
silk  gowns.  I  tell  you  what,  I  do  sometimes  cut  a  swell, 
dressed  up  in  all  my  pretties,  walking  alongside  of  some 
great  lady.  She  couldn't  tell  but  what  I  lived  on  Fifth 
Avenue,  or  boarded  at  a  crack  hotel.  Oh,  my,  you're 
almost  asleep,  poor,  tired  little  thing !  I  guess  I'll  put  you 
to  bed." 

Nora  winked  her  eyes  wide,  and  drew  a  quivering 
breath.  The  long  monologue  had  been  almost  like  a  lul- 
laby. Then,  too,  Kate's  voice  had  a  smooth,  flowing 
sound,  and,  with  the  day's  excitements  and  changes,  Nora 
was  very  tired.  Kate  lighted  another  lamp,  and  taking 
the  child  by  the  hand  led  her  up-stairs. 

The  chamber  was  in  much  the  same  order  as  the  rooms 
below.  Kate  swept  a  lot  of  finery  off  the  bed,  and  de- 
posited it  on  a  lounge,  then  began  to  undress  the  child. 
First  she  brushed  out  the  shining  hair,  and  twisted  it  in  a 
knot  behind ;  took  off  the  dress,  and  found  the  undergar- 
ments in  an  almost  filthy  condition. 

Ah,  how  beautiful  the  soft  pink  flesh  was,  with  its  dim- 
pled shoulders,  its  rounded  limbs,  replete  with  the  grace 
of  a  painted  cherub ;  the  delicate  ankles,  the  litheness,  the 
wonderful  symmetry!  Mother  lips  had  kissed  it  in  its 
innocence,  had  smiled  over  it  with  the  tender  pride  a 
mother  feels  who  has  added  a  tithe  of  pure  beauty  to  the 
world.  How  often  she  had  laid  her  in  her  little  bed,  and 
prayed  over  her ;  and  was  she  now  to  be  plunged  into  the 
jaws  of  that  devouring,  insatiable  monster,  with  its  hydra 
heads  of  greed  and  amusement  ?  And  this  woman  who 
gloated  over  her  now  had  never  known  the  sacred  rapture 
of  a  mother's  love. 

"You  are  like  a  little  Cupid,"  she  said,  kissing  her. 
"You'll  make  fortunes,  and  break  hearts." 

Then  she  laid  her  in  the  bed.  Tired,  sleepy,  strange, 
and  excited,  little  Nora  forgot  her  prayers. 


80  LOST  IN   A  GREAT  CITY. 


CHAPTER  VHL 

HKE  MASTER. 

AFTER  all,  she  was  but  a  little  child,  —  a  child  with  the 
instincts,  and  longings,  and  desires  of  heaven,  perhaps. 
Brought  up  by  her  mother's  knee,  she  would  have  been  an 
angel.  Two  months  ago  she  was  there.  Since  then  her 
scarce  wiser  than  baby  ears  had  been  polluted  by  foul 
oaths  and  ribaldry ;  she  had  been  deceived,  betrayed,  sold 
and  bought ;  she  had  known  hunger  and  hard  usage ;  and 
it  seemed  now  as  if  she  had  fallen  into  the  lap  of  luxury 
and  tenderness. 

Dick  Bridger  went  away  early  the  next  morning  on 
some  important  business.  Kate  was  kind  to  the  child ; 
she  was  not  really  hard  by  nature,  though  circumstances 
and  experience  had  blunted  her  finer  feelings.  Nora 
played  about,  looked  at  the  pictures  and  curiosities,  and 
was  wonderfully  entertained  by  Sylvie  and  Pix,  the  two 
dogs.  Kate  made  them  go  through  their  tricks  —  march- 
ing on  their  hind  legs,  shouldering  a  musket  (a  tiny  toy 
one),  playing  at  domestic  tea-table  quarrels,  dancing,  and 
walking  a  tight  rope. 

"They  do  say  Pix  is  a  wonderful  dog.  Dick  has  been 
offered  a  sight  of  money  for  him.  He  hires  him  out  now 
and  then.  You  see  people  are  so  queer.  Once  in  a  while 
there  comes  a  rage  for  trained  dogs,  and  everybody  rushes 
to  see  them ;  then  it  all  dies  out.  He  could  hire  them  to 
an  organ-player,  but  they're  valuable  and  delicate  dogs. 
Then  there  is  a  play  where  they're  needed.  And  I  like 
Sylvie ;  she's  almost  like  a  child  to  me." 

The   pleasures  were   interspersed  with   dancing-lessons. 


HER   MASTER.  81 

Nora  was  an  apt  scholar,  certainly ;  but  her  movements 
were  those  of  delicacy  rather  than  abandon.  And  she  was 
happy,  —  so  happy,  she  forgot  Mother  Mell;  almost  forgot 
Maggie,  I  was  going  to  say. 

"You'll  make  Dick  mad  if  you  talk  about  her,"  was 
Kate's  warning.  "  She's  most  likely  dead,  and  you  can't 
bring  her  to  life  by  worrying ;  and  if  you  know  when  you 
are  well  off  you'll  keep  on  the  right  side  of  Dick." 

Nora  studied  her  with  questioning  eyes,  but  no  further 
explanation  was  vouchsafed. 

Three  days  of  comfort  and  pleasure,  and  then  Dick 
Bridger  made  his  appearance. 

"  I  just  want  you  to  see  Nora,"  declared  Kate.  "  I've 
been  making  her  a  stunning  rig.  I'll  go  dress  her  now ; 
and  she  dances  like  a  little  angel." 

"I'm  glad  you  improved  the  time,"  returned  Dick.  "To- 
morrow I  must  take  her  in  hand  myself.  Let's  see  what 
you  have  made  of  her." 

Kate  began  to  disrobe  the  child,  and  put  on  her  a  gauzy, 
spangled,  nondescript  sort  of  garment,  that  left  bare  shoul- 
ders and  limbs.  Then  she  brushed  out  the  beautiful  golden 
mane  that  floated  around  her  like  a  cloud. 

"  Now  come  out  to  Dick.  You  do  look  just  like  a  pic- 
ture. Oh,  my  beauty!  I  wish  you  were  going  on  the  stage 
this  blessed  minute.  Come;"  and  she  reached  out  for 
Nora's  hand. 

Modesty  had  been  the  child's  birthright.  Kate's  fond- 
linof  and  caressing  had  not  startled  her,  but  she  had  been 

O  O 

BO  little  accustomed  to  men  that  she  shrank  now  in  terror. 

"  Oh,  no,  no,  don't ! "  she  cried.  "  Dress  me  some  more ; 
he  will  look  at  me ! " 

"  You  little  fool !  I  want  him  to  look  at  you !  What 
would  you  do  before  a  great  theatre-full?  Why,  you're 
as  pretty  as  you  can  be!  Don't  put  on  airs;"  and  she 
dragged  her  forth. 

Abashed,  stunned,  not  daring  to  look  up ;  feeling  in 
6 


82  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

every  pulse  of  her  child's  body  the  sacrilege,  yet  unable 
to  give  it  any  name ;  ignorant  that  what  she  battled  for 
with  almost  womanly  blushes  was  her  own  inalienable 
sacredness,  she  stood  with  downcast  eyes,  shrinking,  shiv- 
ering, hiding  in  the  folds  of  Kate's  dress. 

"No  nonsense,  little  one!  Start  up  the  fiddle,  Kate, 
and  let  us  see  how  your  pupil  progresses." 

Kate  pushed  her  off;  but,  with  a  wild  cry,  she  flew  back 
again. 

"Don't  be  foolish.  Come  here,  in  tb>»  middle  of  the 
floor ; "  and  Dick  Bridger's  decisive  voice  ^a^  her  start 
as  if  stung.  "  Let  her  alone,  Kate.  If  this  is  **>ur  train- 
ing, the  less  she  has  of  it  the  better." 

"Oh,  Nora,  little  pet,  do  as  he  bids  you;  quick!* 

"Go  out  of  the  room,  Kate." 

She  knew  it  would  be  worse  for  the  child  if  she  stayed. 
Training  scenes  were  no  new  thing  to  her,  and  she  had 
yielded  to  a  sort  of  blind  belief  in  the  process.  It  was 
always  hard  in  the  beginning,  whether  it  were  a  dog  or  a 
child;  and  Kate's  vanity  would  have  been  solaced,  in  a  sim- 
ilar exposure,  in  thinking  how  lovely  the  pink  limbs  were. 

Dick  approached  her.  "  Don't !  don't !  "  she  shrieked, 
wrought  up  to  a  pitch  of  unreasoning  fear. 

"  Look  here !  You're  a  pretty  little  midget,  and  you've 
got  to  dance  for  me.  It's  the  sort  of  business  I  am  going 
to  bring  you  up  to.  Now,  no  airs !  Begin  to  the  music." 

She  looked  around  like  a  wild,  shy,  hunted  animal.  The 
eyes  dilated,  the  scarlet  lips  fell  a  little  apart,  an4  there 
was  a  crimson  spot  upon  each  cheek,  while  the  rest  of  hei 
face  was  deathly  white.  Her  limbs  shook,  and  she  gave  »• 
quick,  gasping  breath. 

He  took  down  the  whip.  Sylvie  saw  it,  and  ran  undei 
the  sofa,  quite  satisfied  with  her  past  experience  of  it.  He 
made  the  lash  whiz  in  the  air,  and  kept  his  eyes  fixed  on 
(he  shrinking  child. 

** Will  you  dance?" 


HER  MASTER.  83 

Dick  Bridger  was  not  a  brutal  man,  that  is,  he  was  sel- 
dom cruel  for  sport;  but  when  once  resolved  upon  con- 
quering any  human  thing,  he  would  have  killed  it  sooner 
than  yield  a  fraction. 

"  I  can't !  I  can't ! "  Nora  cried  in  terror.  "  Let  me  go ! " 
and  she  looked  as  if  she  would  fly. 

"Take  that!" 

It  came  down  across  her  shoulders,  and  back,  and  limbs, 
the  lithe,  curling,  cruel  thing,  stinging  as  if  a  red-hot  iron 
had  burned  her ;  and  yet  she  was  so  frightened,  so  amazed, 
that  she  did  not  even  utter  a  cry  of  pain. 

"And  that!" 

Right  into  the  soft  flesh  it  cut,  and  left  a  long,  quiver- 
ing streak.  Then,  maddened  with  the  pain,  she  gave  one 
shriek,  and  flew  at  him  with  the  fury  of  a  tigress,  her 
whole  sweet  and  gentle  nature  ablaze  with  indignation, 
outraged  passion. 

He  held  her  off  at  arm's  length,  puny  little  thing  that  she 
was  in  his  iron  grasp,  while  the  strokes  fell  with  pitiless 
regularity. 

The  door  was  opened. 

"  Look  out  for  her  face,  Dick,  and  her  arms  —  w 

"  Hold  your  tongue,  or  you'll  get  a  taste  !  Come,  now, 
have  you  had  enough  ?  Will  it  do  for  the  first  lesson  ? 
Stand  here,  now.  Begin." 

Blinded  by  her  tears  of  pain  and  anguish,  her  flesh  throb- 
bing, her  blood  white-hot  with  indignation,  her  limbs  faint 
and  trembling,  the  task  seemed  quite  impossible.  Again 
he  raised  the  whip. 

As  if  in  mockery  the  gay  air  sounded  through  the  room. 
Almost  beside  herself  with  terror,  she  took  a  few  slow  steps. 

"  Faster ! "  and  the  cruel  little  lash  stung  her  bare  legs. 

It  was  delirium  then,  the  madness  of  fear  and  pain. 
With  every  step  the  stripes  throbbed  and  smarted  anew, 
her  brain  whirled,  the  light  in  the  room  took  on  a  thousand 
grotesque  shapes,  came  nearer  and  nearer,  as  if  it  would 


84  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

wrap  her  in  its  scorching  blaze,  and  then  suddenly  went 
out.  There  was  a  little  heap  of  bruised  flesh,  gauze,  and 
spangles  on  the  floor. 

He  picked  her  up  and  called  Kate.  She  had  only  fainted, 
and  was  soon  restored ;  but  she  clung  to  the  woman,  sob- 
bing hysterically. 

"  I  hope  you  are  satisfied  now,"  Kate  began,  reproach- 
fully. 

**  I  shall  be  satisfied  when  she  learns  to  obey  me.  I've 
put  too  much  money  in  her  to  fool  away ;  and,  besides, 
some  one  must  take  Violetta's  place.  I'm  not  going  to 
forfeit  a  thousand  or  two  dollars  if  I  can  help  it." 

"  You  might  get  queen  Perdita  for  some  things." 

M  If  you  can't  hold  your  tongue  I'll  find  a  way  to  make 
you,  that's  all.  Don't  let  me  catch  you  interfering  with 
that  young  one,  or  you'll  be  sorry.  I  have  this  thing  in 
band  myself." 

With  that,  Dick  Bridger  lighted  his  meerschaum,  and 
turned  to  his  wife,  his  eyes  fixed  and  glowing  with  authority. 

"Take  the  child  to  bed.  I'll  give  you  just  five  minutes. 
No  molly-coddling." 

She  took  Nora  in  her  arms  and  carried  her  up-stairs 
without  a  word,  tore  off  the  fatal  finery,  and  looked  at  the 
poor  little  back  where  the  stinging  whip  had  left  purple 
welts.  You  shudder  at  the  cruelty !  Ah,  how  many  par- 
ents have  done  the  same,  and  dignified  it  with  the  high- 
sounding  name  of  necessary  discipline,  quoting  for  their 
authority  that  "he  who  spares  the  rod,  spoils  the  child"! 
How  many  brutal  and  drunken  men  and  women  torture 
their  offspring  with  a  more  fiendish  ingenuity  than  the 
slave-drivers  whom  we  used  to  execrate !  Oh,  what  a 
farce,  what  a  hideous  satire  it  is,  that  ties  of  blood  bring 
nearness  and  tenderness !  You  have  not  fogotten  the  brute 
that  beat  his  little  boy  crazy  with  bewildered  terror,  and 
then  to  death,  to  force  him  to  say  a  prayer!  Hardly  a 
week  passes  but  some  fiend  in  human  form  is  brought  up 


HER  MASTER.  85 

jbr  cruel  treatment  to  a  poor  little  defenceless  child.  Oh, 
for  shame,  you  with  strength  of  giants,  to  beat  and  crush 
and  maim  those  in  your  power,  because  they  are  weak  and 
small,  and  cannot  defend  themselves  !  For  shame,  that  in 
a  moment  of  passion  you  fly  to  leathern  strap  or  lash  of 
whip,  —  fit  instruments,  perhaps,  for  barbarians  and  brutish 
criminals, —  and  cut  and  slash  the  tender  flesh  of  a  little 
child ! 

And  you  pity  Nora,  lying  there,  motherless,  worse  than 
friendless,  every  inch  of  flesh  throbbing  with  the  torture 
of  pain,  her  soul  one  bewildered  pang  of  piteous  anguish ! 
Ask  yourself  if  you  have  never  thus  sent  a  little  child  to 
bed,  punished  at  a  fearful  ratio  for  some  fault  of  youthful 
heedlessness,  or  perhaps  springing  from  a  fatal  weakness 
of  character  that  terror  can  never  cure.  Ah,  how  will  you 
answer  to  God  for  all  your  cruelties  ? 

Kate  put  on  her  night-dress  and  laid  her  in  the  bed,  then 
stooped  to  kiss  her. 

"  Oh,  why  did  you  let  him  ?  w  she  cried,  fiercely.  a  I  can 
never  love  you  again,  —  never ! " 

"You  are  an  unreasonable  little  thing,  Nora.  Why 
couldn't  you  have  danced  as  well  for  him  as  for  me  ?  And 
I  hated  so  to  have  him  beat  you ;  but  I  do  believe  the  man 
is  master  of  everything  he  comes  across.  I  soon  found  that 
out,  and  let  him  have  his  way.  He  won't  starve  you,  and 
that's  more  than  can  be  said  for  every  one.  There,  I 
must  go." 

If  she  were  starved  she  would  die.  She  might  have 
crawled  to  the  window  and  thrown  herself  out,  but  that 
did  not  come  into  her  mind.  Suicide  is  born  of  morbid 
desperation,  and  seldom  occurs  to  a  child.  But  now  Nora's 
brain  was  roused.  She  resented  fiercely,  in  her  childish  way, 
the  indignity  that  had  been  offered  her.  If  her  puny  hands 
could  have  known  how  to  strangle  big  Dick  Bridger  in  his 
sleep,  I  think  she  would  have  done  it.  And  only  the  other 
day  she  was  lying  in  her  mother's  arms,  innocent  as  an  angel ! 


86  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

She  tossed  and  tumbled  on  the  bed,  and  moaned  witii 
her  pain.  The  moonlight  looked  in  her  window,  and  then 
she  rose  and  cooled  her  tear-stained  face  in  the  night  breeze. 
The  street  stretched  out  straight  before  her,  though  it  was 
not  much  more  than  a  country  road.  Why  could  she  not 
slip  down-stairs  by  and  by,  when  the  rest  were  asleep,  and 
run  away?  Some  kind  heart  would  surely  take  her  in. 
And  when  she  told  them  how  Dick  beat  her,  and  how  he 
meant  to  train  her  for  a  dancing-girl,  would  they  let  him  ? 
Was  everybody  as  cruel  as  Mother  Mell,  and  the  man  in 
that  vile  place  who  had  given  her  to  Dick  ?  If  she  could 
only  find  Gentleman  Chaffy  again,  or  Tim ! 

She  crawled  back  to  bed,  intent  upon  her  new  plan,  her 
mind  wrought  up  to  that  nervous  pitch  where  sleep  becomes 
an  impossibility.  Kate  came  and  looked  at  her  again  as 
she  shuffled  off  to  bed,  but  then  Nora's  eyes  dropped  shut 
suddenly,  so  soon  had  she  learned  the  art  of  deceit.  And 
then  she  heard  Dick  whistling  the  same  air  the  music-box 
played,  —  a  bit  of  Opera  Bouffe.  How  she  hated  it,  and 
she  clinched  her  little  hands. 

A  long  while  after,  all  the  house  was  still.  Any  other 
time  the  awful  silence  would  have  terrified  her.  She  rose 
softly,  and  crept  out  to  the  hall,  her  little  bare  feet  making 
no  noise.  The  moonlight  shone  in  the  window,  making 
patches  of  ghostly  white  light,  and  leaving  strange,  dark 
corners  in  which  phantoms  might  lurk.  She  shivered,  but 
went  on,  through  the  hall,  out  to  the  kitchen,  as  this  door 
was  farther  away  from  Dick's  ears,  if  they  were  sharp. 
There  was  a  bolt  about  midway,  but  she  stood  on  a  chair 
that  she  might  have  more  strength  to  draw  it.  Her  breath 
came  hard,  her  slender  hands  tugged  and  tugged,  but 
presently  it  moved,  and  then  slipped  with  a  sudden  snap, 
that  for  an  instant  terrified  her. 

Opening  the  door  she  glanced  around.  How  good  and 
comforting  the  night  air  felt  to  her  fevered  brow  and 
wounded  body.  Where  should  she  go?  There  was  a 


HER   MASTER.  8) 

house  over  yonder,  they  might  take  her  in.  Or  perhaps  it 
would  be  better  to  walk  on,  and  on,  all  night. 

There  was  a  sudden,  mysterious  swish  in  the  air,  a  stealthy 
step,  and  a  huge  dog  confronted  her.  His  eyeballs  glared 
like  balls  of  fire,  his  white  fangs  shone  in  the  light  with 
savage  intensity.  With  one  wild,  blood-curdling  cry,  she 
dropped  insensible  again. 

Dick  Bridger  was  aroused  by  the  cry,  and  the  low  alarm 
of  the  dog.  Rushing  down-stairs  he  picked  up  the  child. 

"Hang  the  little  devil!"  he  exclaimed,  angrily.  "Do 
you  suppose  she  walks  in  her  sleep ;  she  had  the  door  un- 
bolted —  " 

"  If  you  had  not  gone  at  her  so  savagely  this  evening," 
interrupted  Kate. 

"  Seeing  that  I  never  trained  anything  before,"  said  Dick 
sarcastically.  "  Of  course  I  don't  know  how  to  begin.  I 
never  drew  a  drop  of  blood  on  the  child's  body.  My  dad 
did  that  for  very  small  trifles  when  I  was  a  youngster,  let 
me  tell  you,  and  it  didn't  kill  me,  either.  You  don't  im- 
agine such  a  midget  could  be  meaning  to  run  away  ?  " 

"  I  shouldn't  wonder,"  replied  Kate,  with  great  satis- 
faction. 

"  Gad !  I  would  thrash  her  if  I  thought  that.  Is  she 
never  coming  to  ? " 

Better  perhaps  that  she  had  died  in  that  long  swoon.  A 
shudder  ran  through  her  frame  presently,  and  the  eyes  rolled 
languidly,  while  a  scarlet  flush  overspread  her  face  as  she 
drew  a  long,  sighing  respiration. 

"  Hang  it !  If  she  wasn't  so  handsome  I  wouldn't  bother 
with  her.  That  old  villain,  Retzer,  is  a  good  judge  of  beauty. 
May  be  you  had  better  stay  with  her,  Kate ;  or  shall  I  ?  n 

«  No,  I  will." 

"  I  guess  we'll  give  her  a  dose.  It  will  make  her  sleep, 
and  that's  the  thing  she  needs  now." 

He  poured  some  brandy  in  a  glass,  put  a  little  water  with 
it,  and  forced  it  down  the  child's  throat,  stopping  to  watch 


88  LOST  IN  A   GREAT   CITY. 

the  effect.  It  warmed  her  chill,  shivering  limbs,  it  flushed 
her  pale  face  anew ;  and  though  she  muttered  some  inco- 
herent words,  she  presently  dropped  into  a  deep,  dreamless 
slumber,  looking  as  she  lay  there  like  some  marvellous 
piece  of  statuary.  How  an  artist  would  have  raved  over  it. 

"  Poor  little  kid,"  commented  Kate.  u  After  all  you  are 
as  well  off  here  as  anywhere,  and  when  the  training's 
through  you  can  make  a  fortune,  ride  in  your  carriage,  and 
have  diamonds  and  Indy  shawls,  and  silks  and  laces.  She's 
got  the  face  and  the  hair  for  it.  And  'tisn't  likely  this 
Maggie  she  talks  about  wanted  to  keep  her,  after  her  mother 
died.  May  be  there's  a  father  in  the  case,  may  be  not ;  I've 
heard  stories  before.  And  if  I  was  to  send  her  to  the 
Homes,  or  to  the  Island,  she'd  be  bound  out  some  where,  and 
1  know  a  little  about  that.  She'd  be  worked  like  a  slave, 
and  may  be  beat  like  one.  Women  are  none  too  good 
when  they  have  the  power.  But  she's  a  queer  little  inno- 
cent, and  that's  the  worse  for  her.  They  get  over  it 
though.  And  the  rich  ones  are  precious  little  better  than 
the  poor  ones,  who  have  to  do  or  starve." 

At  this  point  in  her  reflections  Kate  went  off  into  a 
doze.  A  common-place  woman,  with  the  most  trivial  aims ; 
a  woman  whom  no  training  could  have  ennobled  or  dig- 
nified, and  yet  her  training  had  all  been  against  her.  A 
waif  from  a  country  almshouse,  bound  out  for  a  drudge  and 
slave,  every  point  of  girlish  vanity  or  prettiness  repressed, 
snubbed,  her  hair  cut  close  with  boyish  ungraceful  ness,  her 
shoes  coarse  and  thick,  her  dresses  the  laugh  of  the  neigh- 
borhood, what  wonder  she  was  caught  by  the  glare  and 
tinsel  of  a  strolling  circus  troop  and  became  one  of  their 
number.  She  had  made  capital  out  of  her  good  looks;  she 
liked  the  ease  and  indolence,  the  travel  and  amusement  of 
her  present  existence.  Good-hearted,  good-natured  gen- 
erally, and  not  jealous,  which  Dick  found  much  to  his 
advantage. 

It  was  almost  noon  the  next  day  when  Nora  woke.    She 


HER   MASTER.  89 

had  inherited  a  good  and  elastic  constitution,  and  these 
few  days  of  fresh  air  and  wholesome  diet  had  strengthened 
her  greatly. 

Kate  washed  and  dressed  her.  She  had  made  a  pretty 
new  gown  out  of  a  light  plaid  silk,  and  trimmed  a  hat  with 
much  taste. 

"  Ain't  they  nice  ? "  she  said,  displaying  them  eagerly. 
"•Dick  is  going  to  take  us  in  the  city  to  a  matinee,  and  I 
want  you  to  look  pretty  as  a  pink.  And  you  feel  real 
well,  don't  you,  after  such  a  good  long  sleep." 

"Yes,"  answered  Nora  slowly." 

"You  walked  in  your  sleep  last  night;  did  you  know  it? 
Went  down-stairs  and  unbolted  the  door,  and  fainted  down 
there." 

"  Did  I  ?  "  Nora  said,  with  a  quivering  breath,  for  now  it 
all  seemed  dreamlike. 

"  Yes.  Leo  was  out.  He's  always  let  out  nights.  He's 
a  bloodhound,  you  know.  He  used  to  hunt  slaves  at  the 
South,  and  he's  awful  fierce.  I  wonder  that  he  didn't 
tear  you  in  pieces  last  night.  I  dare  say  he  would  if  you 
had  tried  to  go  anywhere.  No  one  but  Dick  could  stop 
him.  But  I  hope  you'll  never  try  it  again.  He  could  find 
you  anywhere.  If  I  was  to  give  him  some  of  your  clothes 
to  smell  of,  as  they  always  do,  he  would  hunt  you  up,  no 
matter  where  you  might  be  hidden." 

Nora  stood  quiet,  her  eyes  humid  with  speechless  fright. 
She  remembered  now  all  she  had  meant  to  do,  —  to  run 
away.  And  it  would  be  of  no  use. 

"  I've  managed  that,"  Kate  thought  to  herself.  "  She  isn't 
likely  to  cut  up  that  shine  again." 

Then  she  tempted  her  appetite  with  some  dainties,  and 
chattered  in  such  a  gay,  cordial  manner,  that  Nora  was  fast 
resuming  her  former  friendliness.  She  shrank  away  when 
Dick  entered,  but  he  was  in  a  very  jolly  mood,  hurrying 
them  to  get  ready  for  their  journey. 

They  went  in  their  own  conveyance,  and  drove  to  the 


90  LOST   IN   A   GKEAT   CITY. 

door  of  the  theatre.  Dick  saw  them  seated,  but  to  him  the 
shallow  burlesque  would  have  been  insufferably  tiresome. 
There  was  a  glitter  of  lights  and  a  deafening  crash  of  music 
that  so  startled  Nora  she  kept  tight  hold  of  Kate's  hand. 
Then  the  curtain  rolled  softly  upward,  and  the  play  began. 
There  was  an  enchanting  princess,  in  azure  and  silver,  a 
prince  in  scarlet  and  gold,  elfs,  fairies,  wood-nymphs, 
butterflies,  peasants  in  white  with  bare  ancles,  shepherds 
who  danced  and  sang;  a  ballet  troupe  in  scanty  drapery 
of  rose  and  azure,  and  fays  in  pufls  of  cloudy  tulle.  They 
laughed  and  danced  and  sung,  they  uttered  shallow  witti- 
cisms and  bad  puns,  strung  together  by  bits  of  dialogue ; 
were  applauded  and  had  flowers  thrown  to  them,  and  to 
the  sweet,  simple  child  Nora,  it  was  grander  and  more  beau- 
tiful than  any  fairy  story  she  had  ever  read.  Her  cheeks 
flushed,  and  her  eyes  sparkled  with  excitement,  and  Kate, 
watching  her,  thought  of  a  time  when  she  would  hold  an 
audience  entranced. 

"  For  she's  so  much  handsomer  than  that  scrawny  little 
Violetta,  who  always  looked  frightened  out  of  her  senses. 
It's  good  the  poor  thing's  dead." 

And  Violetta,  at  rest  in  her  little  nameless  grave,  would 
have  thought  so  too  if  the  dead  ever  could  think. 

In  her  pretty  dressing-room  sat  Mrs.  Byington,  studying 
a  picture  of  a  lovely  child's  face,  and  sighing  unconsciously 
over  it.  At  Ellen  Brown's,  poor  Maggie  wiped  away  her 
tears,  and  hoped  against  hope.  Mr.  Byington,  Tim,  and 
a  keen-scented  detective  were  searching  the  city,  and  oh, 
sad  satire,  she  had  come  and  gone  in  their  very  midst, 
had  been  tempted  by  the  glare  and  show,  the  gilt  and 
tinselled  draperies,  and  was  about  to  make  a  plunge  in  that 
seething  vortex,  pushed  in  by  greed,  on  the  one  side,  and 
the  demand  for  wild,  fantastic,  and  bizarre  amusements  on 
the  other. 


THE  VICTORY   OF  DESPAIR.  91 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE   VICTORY   OP   DBSPAIB. 

KATE,  woman-like,  had  tempted  Nora  with  the  rose-col- 
ored seductiveness  of  her  new  life.  There  was  a  glamour 
that  enchanted.  Dick  Bridger  would  have  made  the  train- 
ing a  mere  matter  of  business,  since  that  it  must  be  in  the 
end. 

And  now  it  began  in  earnest.  A  series  of  the  lighter 
gymnastics  at  first,  made  entertaining  by  his  praise  and  en- 
couragement. Perhaps  he  felt  that  it  was  not  best  to  ter- 
rify her  by  too  much  roughness.  Yet  Nora  was  not  a 
daring  child.  When  she  climbed  dizzy  heights,  when  she 
sprang  through  hoops  suspended  in  mid-air,  she  experienced 
a  tendency  to  shrink  and  scream.  But  those  stern  eyes 
were  upon  her ;  the  whip  was  always  at  hand. 

She  had  yielded  passively  to  her  new  life.  While  she 
could  not  believe  that  Maggie  had  purposely  deserted 
her,  the  nurse  became  to  her  a  memory,  like  her  dead  mam- 
ma. Escape  from  this  place  was  not  to  be  thought  of,  for 
Leo  seemed  to  her  a  frightful,  devouring  monster.  And 
she  began  to  experience  a  clinging  tenderness  for  Kate, 
who  held  her,  made  her  fine  clothes,  was  demonstratively 
fond,  and  often  foolishly  indulgent.  She  related  episodes  of 
her  own  life  as  she  would  have  done  to  an  equal,  stories  of 
the  stage  that  had  a  certain  tempting  brilliancy,  and  were 
well  calculated  to  lure  the  simple  child  onward.  Other 
associates  there  were  none.  Lena,  the  maid,  gave  her  ad- 
miring glances,  and  threaded  her  beautiful  hair  in  wonder, 
ment,  but  there  could  be  no  conversation  between  them, 
Pix  and  Silvie  were  her  playmates. 


B2  LOST  IN  A  GREAT   CITY. 

Yet  for  childhood's  simple  enjoyments  she  came  to  have 
jittle  taste,  and  no  strength.  She  was  so  exhausted  by  her 
daily  practices  that  for  hours  afterward  she  was  compelled 
to  lie  on  the  sofa.  The  August  weather  was  oppressively 
hot.  Dick  plied  her  with  stimulants,  judiciously  used,  it  is 
true,  yet  fearfully  dangerous  in  the  habits  they  might  en- 
gender. Of  her  future  he  thought  little.  He  had  seen  so 
many  wrecks  of  pretty  young  girls  that  one  or  more  made 
slight  difference  to  him.  He  could  count  on  a  few  years 
of  popular  favor  for  her,  if  she  lived. 

The  training-room  was  the  large  unfinished  garret  over- 
head, made  more  airy  and  light  by  two  large  skylights  that 
were  always  open  in  such  weather.  Here  were  pulleys, 
rings,  frames,  hurdles,  in  short  all  devices,  and  the  place 
looked  not  unlike  an  inquisition  chamber.  To  the  little 
dead  Violetta  it  had  proved  a  place  of  torture  many  a 
time.  Nora  entered  it  with  fear  and  trembling,  and  often 
left  it  so  exhausted  that  she  could  scarcely  breathe. 

"You  are  quite  up  in  those  flying  leaps,"  Dick  said  one 
morning.  "The  only  thing  for  you  is  not  to  lose  your 
head.  You  want  to  keep  your  thoughts  fixed  on  what 
you're  about;  no  wandering,  mind!  And  now  you're  to 
be  promoted." 

Nora  glanced  about  timidly.  There  was  a  thick  rope 
stretched  across  the  place  some  four  feet  from  the  floor. 

"You  are  to  walk  this,  to-day.  See,  you  hold  this 
balancing-rod  in  your  hands,  so,  and  glide  over  quickly." 

He  ran  a  short  distance  in  order  to  explain  it  the  better 
to  her. 

It  seemed  so  impossible  to  her  that  she  could  preserve 
an  instant's  footing  on  the  rope.  She  eyed  it  with  a  shiv- 
ering hesitancy. 

"  Come,  quick !  You'll  have  a  few  tumbles  in  the  begin- 
ning,  but  the  distance  is  nothing,  and  these  old  mattresses 
will  break  the  fall.  Mount." 

M  If  it  were  not  so  high  —  n 


THE  VICTORY  OF  DESPAIR.  93 

M  Then  you'd  step  off  every  other  minute.  You'd  never 
acquire  any  self-reliance.  And  for  a  real  stage  performance 
you'd  be  up  two  or  three  times  as  high.** 

She  took  the  balancing-pole  and  stepped  up  from  a  stool 
The  next  instant  she  was  down  again. 

As  I  have  said,  Nora  was  not  a  daring  child.  Some  of 
these  feats  had  come  to  have  a  breathless  fascination,  but 
it  was  the  awful  fascination  of  terror,  a  struggle  for  per- 
sonal safety  and  life.  So  now  after  two  or  three  vain  essays 
her  courage  forsook  her. 

Dick  Bridger  understood  the  case  well.  There  must  be 
a  fear  above  this  personal  fear  of  mind,  an  absolute  terror 
of  physical  suffering.  He  had  taught  it  to  a  dog,  to  a  mon- 
key, to  a  horse,  and  a  child.  In  most  cases,  since  every  law 
of  being  must  be  altered  or  violated,  the  hope  of  reward 
was  not  sufficiently  strong.  The  more  brutish  the  instinct, 
the  more  readily  amenable  it  was  to  sweets  and  luxuries. 
But  in  this  case  indulgences  would  not  answer.  She  was 
trying  her  unaided  best,  but  it  must  be  aided  by  something 
outside  of  herself. 

There  was  a  tierce  resolution  in  his  eye,  and  his  lips  set- 
tled in  a  firm  line  as  he  took  his  whip. 

"  Oh,  don't  strike  me ! "  she  cried,  the  soft  eyes  wild  with 
fearful  dread.  "  I  cannot  do  it,  indeed." 

"  Not  a  word.  One  more  chance.  If  you  fall  more  than 
twice  in  crossing  it,  you  shall  taste  of  this  little  fellow. 
Hear  his  song,  let  that  animate  you." 

It  whizzed  in  the  air,  making  her  shrink  in  every  nerve. 

"Now,  think  that  you  can  do  it.  Don't  stop  to  believe 
in  failure." 

With  a  long,  quivering  breath  she  mounted,  but  the 
room  seemed  to  swim  before  her.  Down  once,  twice  — 
could  she  reach  the  end  that  looked  so  far  away  ?  Every 
muscle  of  her  body  was  strained,  she  could  not  feel  the 
rope  under  her  feet.  Oh  heaven ! " 

She  felt  the  sharp  stinging  blows  raining  upon  her,  for 


94  LOST   IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 

her  garment  was  a  mere  thin  covering,  to  give  her  limbs 
the  utmost  freedom.  She  did  not  turn  on  her  master  now, 
he  looked  so  large  and  terrible  beside  her ;  she  only  begged, 
and  pleaded,  and  promised. 

"  Well,  try  it  again,  now.  I  shall  stand  at  this  end  and 
look  you  in  the  eye,  so.  Here  is  the  whip." 

Smarting  and  burning,  and  half  maddened  with  the  cruel 
suffering,  she  mounted  again.  Her  master's  steely  eye 
glowed  like  a  coal.  Ah,  those  were  days  of  martyrdom 
when  they  ran  over  bars  of  red-hot  iron,  and  this  was  for 
the  pleasure  of  a  gaping  crowd,  the  applause  when  this 
tender  little  child  risked  life  and  limb. 

She  was  beside  herself  with  apprehension.  The  balance- 
pole  wavered.  Like  a  flash  she  trod  the  distance,  to  fall 
into  her  master's  arms  at  the  end. 

He  did  not  stop  to  praise,  for  he  knew  the  desperate 
mood  would  prove  but  momentary,  so  simply  said  "  again," 
and  it  was  successfully  achieved. 

«  Again ! " 

"  Oh,  let  me  stop,"  she  shrieked  in  anguish. 

His  only  answer  was  a  cut  of  the  whip.  Before  she  had 
gone  a  dozen  steps  she  was  down,  and  the  punishment  fol- 
lowed surely. 

He  did  not  yield  until  he  had  gained  that  tremendous 
ascendency  of  terror  over  her  that  seemed  to  transfer  her 
own  volition  to  his  will.  He  commanded,  she  obeyed.  He 
knew  just  how  far  he  could  stretch  the  screws  of  his  inqui- 
sition, a  brutal  master  might  have  done  more.  With  him 
it  was  a  mere  matter  of  business. 

Kate  had  been  sent  over  to  the  city  with  the  privilege  of 
buying  some  finery,  always  sufficient  temptation  to  her. 
Dick  took  the  child  down-stairs,  gave  her  an  anodyne,  and 
put  her  to  bed ;  and  though  she  shuddered  and  moaned, 
still  she  slept,  and  renewed  her  wasted  strength. 

It  was  almost  night  when  she  woke,  stiff,  and  sore,  and 
bewildered.  Crawling  over  to  the  window,  the  old  idea 


THE   VICTORY    OF   DESPAIR.  95 

of  escape  flashed  into  her  mind  once  more.  What  was  to 
hinder  her  from  trying  it  in  the  daytime,  when  Leo  was 
chained  ? 

A  step  startled  her.  It  was  Lena  who  had  come  to 
dress  her.  First  she  had  a  refreshing  bath,  and  the  rough, 
stolid  girl  wiped  the  little  scarred  back  tenderly.  Her 
clothes  were  soft  and  fine,  and  put  on  with  care.  Her  hair 
was  brushed,  and  Lena  led  her  down-stairs. 

"  Come,"  said  Dick.  "  Come,  sit  on  my  knee  and  eat 
some  dinner." 

There  was  a  little  table  spread  for  her  with  some  tempt- 
ing delicacies.  But  she  shrank  and  shivered,  and  her  soft 
eyes  grew  almost  filmy  under  his  glance.  Yet  the  awe- 
some fascination  drew  her  to  his  very  side.  He  lifted  her 
on  his  knee,  but  she  could  not  repress  a  sick  shudder. 

He  went  on  as  if  he  had  not  noted  it.  She  turned  away 
from  the  morsel  of  broiled  chicken  he  held  for  her. 

"  Come,  you  are  to  eat ; "  and  he  fixed  his  eyes  on  the 
pale,  shrinking  face. 

She  obeyed  him  as  if  under  a  spell.  And  when  her 
fright  wore  away  a  little,  she  was  really  hungry,  she  found. 
He  talked  pleasantly,  called  Sylvie  to  do  an  odd  trick,  and 
made  the  parrot  go  through  some  amusing  evolutions. 

"  Have  you  had  sufficient  ?  Take  a  little  more  of  this 
nice  cream.  And  these  berries  are  luscious." 

"  I  cannot  eat  any  more,"  she  answered,  timidly. 

"Well,  get  your  hat  then.     We  are  going  to  ride." 

«  Where  is  Kate  ?  " 

u  Oh,  not  home  yet.  I  wonder  what  she  will  bring  you  ? 
Something  nice,  I  dare  say." 

She  found  her  hat,  and  he  lifted  her  into  the  light 
wagon.  Over  the  smooth  road  they  bowled,  and  now  the 
sun  had  dropped  in  his  bed  of  flaming  gold,  and  soft 
brown  shadows  were  falling  around  leafy  nooks  and  by  the 
sides  of  cottages.  Here  a  motherly  hen  clucked  to  her 
brood,  there  a  long  procession  of  geese  gossiped  on  their 


96  LOST   IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 

homeward  route,  a  dog  lay  sleeping  on  a  vine-covered 
porch,  or  sitting  expectant  at  a  gate.  Groups  of  children 
made  the  air  ring  with  playful  shouts,  free  and  happy  chil- 
dren, some  barefooted,  and  in  faded  gingham  dresses.  Did 
they  envy  this  little  lady  in  her  silk  attire,  her  long  white 
feather  drooping  amid  her  waving  hair.  She  was  a  prin- 
cess to  them,  but  only  a  few  hours  ago  she  had  been  beaten 
like  a  slave !  She  seemed  to  feel  the  cruel  mockery  of  con- 
trast herself,  and  oh,  how  she  longed  to  be  one  of  them. 
How  vividly  the  picture  of  her  own  pretty  home  came  back 

—  the  little  garden  and  the  flowers,  the  canai-y  singing  in  the 
window,  the  sleek  maltese  cat  washing  her  face,  her  own 
dear  mamma  sewing,  or  reading  her  stories,  or  playing  on 
the  piano.    And  then  it  seemed  as  if  she  must  fly,  that  she 
so  hated  her  master  beside  her  she  would  be  glad  to  see 
him  lie  dead  here  in  the  very  road.    It  was  a  guileless  child's 
heart  no  longer. 

He  was  watching  her  face  with  an  amused  smile.  The 
brave,  defiant  eyes,  the  cleft-rosebud  of  a  mouth,  the  dim- 
pled chin,  the  wonderful  pearly  complexion,  and  these 
fleeting  thoughts  holding  mimic  carnival  over  it,  —  would 
she  were  years  older,  that  he  might  master  her  for  himself 
instead  of  a  senseless  public.  So  cruel  does  a  knowledge 
of  unlimited  power  and  authority  make  men. 

Kate  brought  her  some  bracelets  —  she  did  not  need  to 
explain  that  they  were  the  dead  Violetta's,  burnished  anew 

—  and  a  box  of  French  bon-bons ;  but  what  she  prized 
most  of  all  to-night,  a  little  nosegay  of  white  tuberoses  and 
purple  heliotrope. 

The  training  went  on.  Some  days  she  was  fortunate, 
on  others  the  cruel  lash  was  her  mentor.  The  fear  of 
Dick  finally  overcame  her  natural  childish  timidity  and 
want  of  daring.  And  once  at  this  point  she  improved 
rapidly. 

But  the  great  object  never  once  went  out  of  her  mind. 
She  would  run  away.  She  was  quiet,  obedient,  indeed 


THE  VICTORY   OP  DESPAIR.  97 

much  interested  in  her  surroundings,  for  Kate  was  both 
indulgent  and  entertaining,  and  Nora  was  but  a  child,  sus- 
ceptible to  kindness,  and  easily  won  through  the  imma- 
turity of  judgment  that  lends  to  childhood  its  greatest 
charm. 

Dick  had  gone  out  one  day  immediately  after  dinner. 
Nora  played  around  and  looked  at  pictures,  until  presently 
Kate  dozed  on  the  sofa.  Lena  was  in  the  kitchen  knitting. 
Now  was  her  time. 

She  took  her  hat  from  the  rack  in  the  hall  and  put  it  on 
leisurely,  though  her  heart  beat  in  great,  frightened  bounds, 
Slowly  she  walked  out  to  the  gate,  and  opened  it  without 
a  creak.  And  then  she  went  straight  on  for  a  short 
distance,  though  she  did  not  care  to  go  city-ward,  and  soon 
turned,  winding  up  and  down  with  a  curious  animal  in. 
stinct  of  safety.  By  and  by  she  found  a  shady  country 
road,  and  sat  down  to  rest,  for  she  was  warm  and  tired. 

Ah,  how  delightful  it  was  !  The  sweet  air,  the  soft  carpet 
of  grass,  the  birds  singing  overhead,  and  here  a  tiny  stream 
of  water  with  a  few  flowers  at  its  edge.  It  led  into  a  kind 
of  wood.  She  climbed  the  fence  easily,  she  wandered  on 
and  on  with  an  exhilarating  sense  of  life.  Of  to-morrow 
she  could  not  think,  she  was  so  glad  to  be  free.  A  gray 
squirrel  came  and  looked  her  in  the  eyes,  it  seemed  as  if 
he  laughed ;  she  did  so  in  the  pure  gladness  of  her  heart, 
light  now  as  yonder  floating  thistle-down. 

She  stopped  and  drank  out  of  the  pellucid  stream.  She 
was  a  little  hungry,  too,  and  now  the  sun  had  disappeared. 
A  few  birds  called  sharp  and  shrilly,  as  if  chiding  some 
late  wanderer ;  there  was  a  peculiar  rustling  sound  in  the 
leaves,  that  somehow  sent  a  shiver.  Would  she  dare  stay 
here  all  night  ?  Were  there  bears,  and  lions,  and  tigers 
about?  Would  it  not  be  better  to  climb  up  in  some 
tree? 

Or  perhaps  a  tender  heart  might  be  found  to  take  her  in. 
And  yet  she  was  afraid  of  her  kind,  they  had  all  been  so 

7 


98  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

cruel  to  her.  If  she  could  only  live  here  under  the  trees, 
and  find  something  to  eat!  But  there  was  the  winter,  and 
cold,  and  storms ! 

She  rose,  and  picked  her  way  about  a  little.  It  was 
growing  very  dark  now,  and  the  trees  looked  like  grim 
ghosts,  with  arms  stretched  out  ready  to  seize  her.  She 
could  find  no  trodden  path;  the  briers  scratched  her 
hands  and  her  ankles;  and  hark,  what  was  that?  a  fierce 
cry  that  seemed  to  turn  her  blood  into  ice.  She  had  never 
been  much  alone  with  the  terror  of  night  and  solitude,  and 
now  she  shivered  with  vague  fear.  She  leaned  against  the 
sloping  trunk  of  a  tree,  and  then  decided  to  climb  it. 
And  here  her  newly  developed  agility  came  into  play. 
From  branch  to  branch  she  went,  until  she  felt  that  she 
was  quite  safe  from  any  wandering  marauders. 

Overhead  the  stars  came  out.  She  did  not  feel  so  afraid 
then.  Rocking  herself  to  and  fro,  her  thoughts  went  back 
to  her  mother.  Was  God  up  in  the  sky  now,  and  did  he 
care  for  little  children  ?  No  one  had  said  anything  about 
Him  lately.  Tim  did  not  know,  and  Kate  had  laughed. 
No  one  went  to  church,  and  she  played  on  Sunday,  and 
was  trained ;  and  what  became  of  God  then  ?  There  was 
the  sky  and  the  stars,  and  mamma  was  up  in  heaven. 
Suppose  she  said  her  prayers  now;  it  had  been  such  a 
long,  long  time,  since  she  had  said  any. 

Nora  knelt  aswell  as  she  could,  keeping  tightly  hold  of 
the  branches.  First,  "  Our  Father,"  then  "  Now  I  lay  me." 
The  long  accustomed  formula  followed,  "God  bless 
mam — ,  and  then  a  sob  shook  her  slender  frame.  Oh, 
why  did  God  take  her  mamma?  Were  there  so  many 
little  children  up  in  heaven  that  had  no  mammas  ?  For 
she  wanted  her  sorely. 

"  Maggie ! "  she  cried,  "  Maggie ! "  and  the  sound  a-"  her 
own  voice  terrified  her. 

There  was  a  dull  echo;  the  leaves  rustled,  and  thai 
was  alL 


THE  VICTORY  OF  DESPAIR.  99 

u  But  it  will  be  morning  soon,"  she  said  hopefully.  **  If 
I  dared  to  go  to  sleep." 

And  then  she  grew  very  drowsy,  a  little  chilly  to,  with 
the  cooler  night  winds. 

Hark,  what  was  that!  A  voice,  surely.  She  sat  up 
now,  her  senses  keenly  alert.  A  crashing  and  tearing 
among  the  underbrush,  as  of  some  wild  animal,  and  an  icy 
terror  took  her  in  it's  grip.  She  made  no  sound,  obeying 
her  instinct  of  self-preservation. 

It  came  nearer.  It  stopped  at  the  foot  of  the  tree,  and 
pawed  and  snuffled.  Then  it  gave  a  long,  low,  dangerous 
growl. 

"Leo!"  She  was  too  much  frightened  to  breathe.  But 
for  the  kindly  sheltering  arms  of  the  tree  she  would  have 
fallen. 

"  Leo !  Leo !  good  old  fellow,  what  is  it  ?  " 

She  knew  the  voice.     She  had  been  found  ! 

The  steps  came  nearer.  Leo  gave  another  growl,  then  a 
low,  joyful  bark,  and  pawed  away  at  the  tree. 

"There,  Leo;  yes,  good  old  fellow;"  and  through  the 
leaves  she  saw  the  flash  of  a  lantern.  Now  the  man  and 
the  dog  were  plainly  visible.  She  shuddered  at  the  glare 
of  those  terrible  eyes,  as  he  stretched  himself  up  towards 
her,  his  body  almost  as  supple  as  that  of  a  snake.  She 
could  not  even  utter  a  cry. 

"  Nora.    Are  you  there  ?  " 

The  tranquil,  yet  decisive  tone,  exercised  a  strange 
power  over  her.  She  was  helpless  again,  quite  within 
Dick's  grasp.  She  tried  to  answer,  but  it  seemed  as  if  her 
voice  had  no  sound. 

"  Nora !    Down,  Leo !  you  brute ! " 

«  Yes,"  she  said. 

He  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  dress. 

u  So  you  are  perched  way  up  there !  Can  you  get 
down  ?  "  and  his  tone  was  as  cheerful  as  if  it  were  a  frolic 
to  both, 


100  LOST   IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

u  Oh,  you  won't  let  Leo  — *"  and  there  was  a  deadly 
anguish  in  her  voice. 

"I  shall  not  let  Leo  hurt  you,  no.  Be  careful  about 
slipping.  What  a  climber  you  are.  Here,  now." 

He  was  standing  at  the  foot  of  the  tree,  and  his  tall 
figure  reached  almost  to  the  lower  limbs.  He  held  the 
light  for  her,  and  she  came  down  with  a  kind  of  automatic 
movement,  as  if  fright  had  curdled  the  blood  in  her  veins. 

"  That's  right.  Now  let  go,"  and  he  took  her  in  his 
arms.  "  Leo,  guide  us  out  of  this  infernal  hole  !  " 

Not  a  word  did  either  speak.  The  careful  pressure 
might  have  been  that  of  a  father.  Nora  laid  her  head  on 
his  shoulder ;  he  felt  her  cool  cheek  on  his  neck,  and  heard 
the  half-stifled  beating  of  her  heart.  Out  on  the  main  road 
the  wagon  was  waiting.  Leo  followed  with  sweeping 
strides. 

They  drove  straight  to  the  barn.  He  lifted  her  out, 
carried  her  in  and  sat  her  on  the  feed-box,  while  he  put  the 
horse  in  his  stall.  Then  he  stood  her  on  the  floor,  and  sat 
the  lantern  in  her  place.  Leo  seemed  to  look  on  in  eager 
expectancy,  his  cruel  eyes  shining  like  balls  of  fire. 

"  So  you  thought  you  would  try  running  away  ?  "  Dick 
began. 

She  glanced  at  him  in  silent  terror.  It  was  such  a  weird 
sight  —  the  great  barn  with  its  thatch  of  hay  over  head,  its 
motley  collection  of  various  articles  hanging  about,  the 
dim  light,  the  crouching  dog,  the  man  whose  proportions 
appeared  gigantic,  and  the  trembling,  beautiful  child,  in  her 
torn  dress  and  tangled  hair. 

"  Do  you  know  that  at  one  word  Leo,  here,  would  fly  at 
you,  and  tear  you  limb  from  limb?" 

She  raised  her  eyes  to  his,  and  her  lips  quivered,  but  she 
had  no  mind  to  plead  even  for  her  life. 

He  reached  over  for  his  whip.  The  long  lash  hung 
tremulous,  almost  like  a  sentient  thing.  An  awful  chill 
Brept  over  her  soft,  shrinking  skin. 


THE  VICTORY  OP  DESPAIR.  101 

a  And  I  could  whip  you  until  you  were  a  mass  of  man- 
gled, bleeding  flesh." 

Then  a  gleam  of  lightning  scorn  flashed  out  of  her  eyes, 
that  were  humid  and  black.  She  stood  straight  before 
him,  haughty,  defying,  but  with  the  wonderous  beauty  of 
desperation,  which  is,  perhaps,  half  the  martyr's  courage. 
She  stamped  her  small  foot,  and  yet  she  was  passionless. 

"  Kill  me  !  kill  me!"  she  cried,  in  a  shrill,  sweet,  frozen 
sort  of  tone. 

He  had  a  humorous  side  to  his  nature,  this  Dick  Bridger, 
an  appreciative  side,  too.  This  puny  thing,  that  he  could 
knock  senseless  with  half  a  blow  of  his  fist,  this  little  mite, 
daring,  defying  him,  filled  him  with  a  sense  of  amusement. 

"  I  shouldn't  kill  you,"  he  said  calmly.  "  I  should  whip 
you  to-night  until  you  were  all  bruised  and  bleeding,  then 
I  should  whip  you  again  to-morrow  night,  and  so  on,  until 
I  fancy  you  would  never  want  to  run  away  again.  Come, 
don't  you  think  you  deserve  it  ?  " 

Her  eyes  grew  luminous,  and  distended  with  terror,  but 
she  made  no  reply. 

He  toyed  a  few  seconds  with  the  lash,  and  the  lithe, 
black,  serpent-like  thing  seemed  endued  with  life.  Then 
he  dropped  it,  and  came  a  step  nearer. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  in  the  same  calm  tone,  "  I  am  not  going 
to  punish  you  at  all,  if  you  will  promise  me  one  thing. 
You  have  never  told  a  He  since  you  came  here,  I  think. 
If  you  will  say  now,  on  your  honor,  that  you  will  never 
attempt  to  run  away  again,  we  will  shake  hands  and  be 
good  friends." 

She  stood  quite  still,  as  if  she  had  not  heard  him,  her 
little  hands  trembling  at  her  side.  The  revulsion  of  feel- 
ing was  so  great  that  she  could  not  comprehend.  She 
raised  her  troubled,  questioning  eyes,  the  daring  light  all 
gone  out  of  them.  Then  she  gave  a  spring,  clasped  hia 
knees,  and  was  sobbing  wildly. 

w  Oh,  I  will !  I  will  promise  you  I    I  will  never  run  away 


102  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

again :  no,  not  even  if  you  kill  me !     And  I  will  try  to  do 

all  you  tell  me  —  " 

He  lifted  her  up  and  kissed  the  wet  face,  touched  in  spite 
of  himself. 

"  There,  there,"  he  said,  soothingly.  "  Now  promise  me 
once  more,  and  kiss  me  on  it,  and  I  shall  know  that  you 
are  too  brave  a  girl  to  tell  a  lie.  Come,  Leo,  we'll  go  back 
to  the  house.  Don't  sob  so,  child." 

She  clung  round  his  neck,  and  pressed  her  cheek  to  his, 
conquered  in  a  double  manner,  —  by  the  fear  that  had 
ruled  her  so  tensely  before,  and  by  the  love,  that  seemed 
so  generous  to  her,  simply  from  contrast  with  the  power. 
He  recognized  the  nature.  He  had  found  it  in  a  thorough- 
bred horse,  in  a  pure-blooded  dog,  and  some  few  women. 
The  larger  soul  that  forgives  a  blow,  because  it  is  gener- 
ous, not  craven,  and  if  once  taken  at  the  flood  tide  would 
yield  its  life ;  nay,  what  is  really  more,  after  all,  would  give 
its  living  body  for  all  time,  to  be  tortured,  beaten,  starved, 
so  long  as  it  ministered  to  the  master's  happiness  by  one 
jot.  Nay,  you  have  sometimes  seen  savage  beasts  display 
this  overwhelming  love,  and  yet,  oftener  than  you  think,  it 
had  a  wild,  awesome  terror  for  its  foundation,  but  a  terror 
that  was  not  abject. 

He  held  her  on  his  knee  after  they  entered  the  house, 
and  tried  to  restore  her  to  calmness,  talking  in  a  cheery 
way,  and  feeding  her  with  some  luscious  peaches,  the  first 
she  had  seen.  And  then  he  took  her  to  bed, — the  poor, 
tired,  trembling  little  thing ! 

Kate  had  not  dared  come  forward,  though  she  had  been 
listening  with  senses  wonderfully  sharpened  for  so  sluggish 
a  temperament.  Indeed,  the  scene  before  he  went  out  had 
not  been  of  the  tranquil  order. 

Now  he  found  her  in  the  hall,  her  face  almost  as  white 
as  her  dress. 

«  Dick,  you  didn't  — "  she  gasped. 


THE  VICTORY  OP  DESPAIR.  103 

"  Shut  your  stupid  head,  or  I'll  murder  you ! "  Dick  flung 
out,  savagely. 

Yet  he  still  felt  the  pressure  of  the  soft  cheek  against 
his,  and  he  saw  in  his  dreams  the  beautiful,  defiant,  child- 
ish figure,  as  she  had  dared  him  to  kill  her. 


i04  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 


CHAPTER  X. 

TITANIA. 

"SiGNOB  BABBETTI  and  Queen  Titania,  the  wonderful 
Trapese  performers."  "  Titania,  the  marvellous  fairy  child 
six  years  of  age."  "  Titania,  the  fairy  tight-rope  dancer." 
Such  were  the  flaming  advertisements  posted  about  a  west- 
ern city,  and  appended  here  and  there,  in  staring  block 
capitals,  "  Go  to  the  Varieties." 

The  "  Varieties  "  was  one  of  the  popular  theatres  of  the 
season.  There  was  always  a  farce,  one  of  the  merriest, 
maddest  things,  the  wit  dashed  with  broad  allusions  that 
never  failed  to  bring  down  the  house ;  there  were  two  or 
three  comic  singers,  who  were  irresistible ;  there  was  a 
handsome  young  actress,  with  matchless  figure  and  limbs, 
who  disported  herself  in  the  wildest  of  breakdowns  and 
the  most  riotous  of  waltzes.  And  not  least,  Signor  Bar- 
retti. 

Last  winter  his  foil  had  been  Mademoiselle  Violetta,  a 
puny,  automatic  child.  What  had  become  of  her  the  pub- 
tic  did  not  ask.  If  they  thought  at  all,  they  supposed  her 
Queen  Titania  under  the  new  name.  But  Barretti  was 
always  a  favorite,  and  there  were  whispers  that  he  and  the 
child  did  some  marvellous  things,  which  meant  that  they 
risked  life  and  limb  for  the  brief  nightly  entertainment  of 
their  audience. 

The  house  was  full.  A  very  fair  house,  too.  Not  alto- 
gether roughs  or  shop-girls,  as  you  might  suppose,  but 
many  well-dressed  and  well-looking  men  and  women.  To 
be  sure,  stowed  away  on  the  highest  tier  was  a  large  sprink- 


TITANIA.  ID* 

ling  of  the  rather  disreputable  element;  but  they  were 
obliged  to  behave  themselves  in  an  orderly  manner. 

They  went  through  the  farce,  and  were  noisily  applauded. 
The  pretty  actress  sang  her  songs  in  a  rather  thin  voice, 
but  they  were  funny,  and  she  was  irresistible  in  the  amus- 
ing scenes.  There  was  a  travesty  of  a  popular  opera,  in 
which  they  were  applauded  and  encored,  and  then  the  stage 
was  cleared  of  trumpery. 

Signer  Barretti  came  forward  with  the  small  queen 
Titania.  Setting  her  age  back  a  year  was  not  a  sin  that 
would  lie  heavily  on  his  conscience,  or  a  thing  that  the 
audience  would  question.  Dressed  for  his  performance,  the 
symmetry,  suppleness,  and  fine  sinewy  force  came  out 
boldly.  The  hair  and  beard  cropped  closely,  yet  with 
nothing  of  the  bully  in  his  raein.  Indeed,  at  such  times  as 
these,  the  latent  refinement  and  enthusiasm  were  visible  in 
his  countenance.  To  face  an  audience  was  a  species  of 
inspiration  to  him. 

And  Titania !  She  was  holding  tightly  to  one  finger,  a 
little  abashed  at  the  great  multitude,  her  eyes  downcast, 
and  almost  black  in  their  lustrousness,  her  long  fair  hair 
gathered  away  from  her  face,  but  left  floating  at  the  back 
like  the  billows  in  a  field  of  ripe  wheat,  while  her  splendid 
complexion  of  pink  and  pearl  needed  no  stage  disguises. 
Shapely  as  a  nymph,  or  a  sculptured  cupid,  the  scanty 
drapery  displaying  the  lovely  roundness  of  the  dimpled 
limbs.  There  were  mothers  of  little  girls  looking  on, 
fathers,  brothers,  yet  to  them  she  was  only  a  thing  for 
their  amusement ;  not  a  casket  wherein  was  shrined  a 
woman's  soul,  a  soul  capable  of  sweetness,  affection,  truth, 
and  purity,  or  a  dangerous  power  in  after  years  to  strike 
back  home,  to  draw  into  her  bewildering,  delusive  net, 
husbands,  brothers,  sons ;  to  pay  in  tears  and  anguish  the 
plaudits  of  to-night,  and  all  nights  to  come. 

Her  starry  beauty  enchanted.  There  was  a  breathless 
hush  through  the  audience.  She  felt  these  merciless, 


106  LOST  IN   A  GREAT  CITY. 

staring  eyes,  and  her  cheeks  became  the  color  of  scarlet 
poppies,  her  small  mouth  quivered,  the  rosy  lips  parting, 
and  her  eyes  blazed  in  the  glare  of  light ;  nay,  her  very 
pulses  throbbed  to  the  rapturous,  expectant  welcome  of 
applause. 

Dick  Bridger  had  been  too  wise  to  try  her  here  for  the 
first  time.  Her  debut  had  been  a  week's  engagement  with 
a  travelling  circus.  And  at  the  very  first  appearance  she 
had  been  seized  with  the  awful  terror  of  a  stage  fright,  and 
done  such  discredit  to  Dick's  training  that  — 

To  tell  the  truth,  he  would  much  rather  never  have 
struck  the  child  again.  He  had  come  to  experience  a 
strange,  absorbing  tenderness  since  the  night  she  had  de- 
fied him  in  the  barn.  He  would  sooner  have  taken  every 
blow  himself. 

And  she  knew  now  just  what  awaited  a  failure.  Her 
brain  was  almost  maddened  with  conflicting  terrors,  the 
fear  of  life  and  limb  in  those  wild,  dangerous  exercises,  and 
the  other  fear  of  cruel  punishment.  And  joined  with  this 
an  overwhelming  love  for  Dick.  The  glance  of  his  eye 
fascinated  her  as  a  serpent  does  a  bird,  ruled  her,  body  and 
soul. 

The  performance  began.  The  athlete's  light  sinuous 
curves,  that  brought  out  the  quiver  of  playing  muscles,  now 
a  long,  lithe  band  just  under  the  skin,  now  a  ball  of  hard, 
knotted  cord,  holding  himself  by  the  tip  of  a  finger,  by  the 
strength  of  an  ankle,  by  the  chin,  vaulting,  springing  from 
height  to  height  like  a  monkey  in  its  native  wilds,  hanging 
head  downward,  with  his  arms  crossed  on  his  magnificent 
chest,  as  superbly  indifferent  as  if  he  were  lounging  on  a 
sofa,  while  rounds  of  applause  sounded  from  pit  to  dome. 

AridTitania! 

She  was  a  bird,  a  butterfly,  as  her  spangled  garments 
caught  the  light,  and  glittered  with  sparkling  rays.  Her 
twinkling  feet  seemed  at  home  anywhere,  on  the  swaying 
rope,  the  slender  rod,  or  his  hand.  All  the  while,  with 


TITANIA.  107 

that  strange,  entranced  light  in  her  face  of  roses  and  lilies, 
an  expression  that  held  hey  audience  breathless  with  a 
peculiar  fascination.  Did  they  know  that  for  her  it  was 
the  awful  mesmerism  of  fear  ?  And  if  they  had,  they  would 
still  have  clamored  for  amusement. 

Last  year  it  was  Violetta;  and  who  cared  for  dead 
Violetta  now  ?  Last  year  a  wonderful  starry-eyed  girl  had 
trod  these  boards,  danced,  sung,  and  been  crowned  with 
roses,  to-day  she  was  thrust  into  a  hospital,  to  languish  and 
die  alone,  friendless,  and  be  buried  in  a  Potter's  field.  And 
next  year,  Titania,  with  her  radiant,  flower-like  face  and 
sunny  hair  might  be  —  where  ? 

They  did  not  ask.  They  had  paid  for  their  evening's 
entertainment.  They  might  look  at  a  swallow's  long, 
daring  curves  in  mid-air,  at  a  fly  when  he  walked  the  ceil- 
ing, at  a  spider  who  flings  himself  from  branch  to  branch, 
or  from  some  high  house-top  to  the  ground,  the  slender 
thread  still  in  his  grasp,  and  no  emotion  would  be  excited. 
But  when  human  beings  were  unnaturally  trained  to  imitate 
them  all,  if  possible,  the  appreciative  world  clapped  its 
hands. 

"  Let  them  dance  and  spring,  so  that  they  are  brilliant 
and  wonderful.  What  matter  if  to-morrow  they  die !  " 

So  cries  the  cruel  world,  knowing  not  that  it  is  cruel, 
caring  not,  so  that  it  may  laugh  and  applaud. 

There  was  a  silence  presently.  Signor  Barretti  stood, 
with  one  foot  crossed  over  the  other,  in  a  handsome,  indo- 
lent, audacious  attitude,  with  a  smile  on  his  lips.  Titania 
had  disappeared.  Then  there  was  a  stir  and  murmur  up 
in  the  high  gallery.  Heads  were  turned,  wonder  was 
excited  to  its  utmost.  Something  shone  in  the  half  dusk 
and  dinginess,  a  small,  daz/ling  figure.  She  clasped  both 
small  hands  tightly  over  a  ring,  to  which  was  attached  a 
small,  strong  rope,  the  other  end  securely  fastened  high  up 
above  the  stage  curtain. 

The  hush  was  breathless,  intense  1 


108  LOST   IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 

Swift  as  a  bird  she  came  through  the  air,  her  golden  hair 
floating  behind  her  like  shadowy  wings,  her  eyes  burning 
with  a  strange,  desperate  glow,  the  very  madness  of  hope 
and  fear,  —  on,  straight  to  Barretti's  outstretched  arms  ! 

There  was  a  perfect  thunder  of  applause,  that  seemed  to 
shake  the  very  building.  He  did  not  dare  turn  that  white, 
terror-stricken  face  to  the  audience.  He  felt  the  great 
frightened  bounds  of  her  heart,  and  murmured  some  tender, 
encouraging  words  in  her  ear. 

It  seemed  as  if  they  never  would  be  done.  It  was  waves 
on  waves  of  sound,  lulling  a  little,  then  tramping  up  on  the 
beach  of  enthusiasm  again. 

"  Let  me  stand  you  on  the  floor,"  he  whispered,  pres- 
ently. "There  is  nothing  more  for  you  to  do  to-night, 
but  you  must  turn  and  bow  to  the  audience." 

She  clung  to  him,  convulsively,  for  it  seemed  as  if  that 
awful  sea  of  human  heads  still  yawned  before  her,  demand- 
ing some  new  effort. 

"  Turn  and  bow,"  he  exclaimed  in  a  voice  of  command, 
and  she  obeyed,  while  the  soft  pink  wavered  in  her  cheeks, 
and  her  eyes  shone  like  points  of  lambent  flame. 

Once  more  the  applause  was  tumultuous,  and  bowing, 
they  withdrew. 

But  back  of  the  stage  stood  another  admiring  crowd. 
Nymphs  and  shepherdesses  in  water-proofs,  and  hoods 
drawn  over  their  heads,  their  startling  loveliness  much 
changed  and  faded. 

"  Oh,  what  an  angel ! "  exclaimed  Mademoiselle  Vivienne. 
"Do  let  me  give  her  a  kiss;"  and  she  darted  forward,  em- 
biacing  the  child  rapturously.  "Such  magnificent  hair! 
la  it  all  real  ?  Oh,  what  a  perfect  little  beauty.  Barretti, 
I  shall  be  mad  with  jealousy  and  rage!"  and  she  laughed 
gaily.  "  We  carried  off  the  flowers  to-night,  but  to-mor- 
row night  you'll  be  crowned,  my  lovely  queen ;  never  fear." 

tt  Her  dancing  is  perfection,"  cried  another.     "  We  must 


TITANIA.  10$ 

look  to  our  laurels.  She  isn't  your  own  child,  Barretti,  is 
she?" 

"Don't  we  look  alike?"  and  he  laughed  good-naturedly. 

"Well,  you  do,  some;  and  she's  supple  as  —  " 

"  As  an  eel,  or  Barretti.  You  can't  make  a  better  com- 
parison," declared  Prince  Azmor,  who  was  now  a  rather 
effeminate,  common-looking  young  man,  in  coat  and  trousers. 

Kate  pushed  forward  through  the  crowded  green-room. 

"Do  let  me  see  her,  the  little  darling!  I'm  just  dying  to 
take  her  in  my  arms,  and  you  wouldn't  even  let  me  kiss 
her  before  she  went  out.  O  my  beautiful,  beautiful  Queen 
Titania !  You  were  just  magnificent !  Wasn't  it  all  splen- 
did !  and  the  applause,  too ! " 

"  But  the  flying  leap !     Barretti,  you've  made  a  big  hit." 

Barretti  meanwhile  had  wrapped  the  child  in  a  soft 
shawl,  and  still  held  her  in  his  arms  as  the  crowd  pressed 
around  with  their  expressions  of  wonder  and  extravagant 
praises.  As  soon  as  he  could  he  shook  off  his  warmest  ad- 
mirers, and  bidding  Kate  follow,  left  the  scene  of  confu- 
sion, understanding  well  how  necessary  rest  and  quiet  was 
for  his  lovely  little  queen,  who  was  trembling  and  throb- 
bing in  every  pulse. 

The  hack  in  waiting  soon  conveyed  them  to  their  lodg- 
ings, in  a  retired  part  of  the  city.  Kate  always  protested 
against  his  choice.  She  would  have  enjoyed  the  stir  and 
bustle  of  a  second-rate  hotel,  with  a  chance  to  disport  her- 
self in  her  finery  to  either  envy  or  admiration.  But  the 
house  was  clean  and  quiet,  the  room  spacious,  warm,  and 
fresh,  with  no  scents  of  dead  perfumes  or  smoke,  or  vile 
liquors. 

Nora  had  recovered  her  self-possession  somewhat,  and 
was  childishly  eager  to  talk,  and  to  know  how  it  had  all 
seemed  to  Kate,  among  the  audience. 

"  And  you  were  not  alarmed,  my  beauty ! "  I  just  held 
my  breath  in  that  flying-leap.  I  was  so  afraid  you  would 
scream." 


110  LOST   IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 

"  She  knew  better  than  to  scream,"  said  Dick,  in  a  pleas- 
ant tone,  and  yet  it  sent  a  shiver  through  her.  Ah,  she  would 
not  dare  confess  how  near  to  it  she  had  been.  Yet,  now  that 
it  was  over,  with  the  dim  echoes  of  applause  still  sounding 
in  her  ears,  her  heart  beat  exultingly  to  the  intoxicating 
spell.  She  had  tasted  the  cup  of  stage  fascination,  and  en- 
joyed it.  To-morrow  night  she  would  be  not  only  ready, 
but  impatient.  Indeed,  she  almost  wished  it  was  to  do 
over  immediately.  The  room  looked  so  dull  after  all  the 
stage  glitter  and  brilliance. 

She  sat  on  Dick's  knee,  and  prattled  while  she  ate  a  few 
mouthfuls  of  a  plain  little  lunch.  But  she  was  so  brim- 
ming over  with  excitement  that  she  was  fairly  radiant. 

"  But  you  must  go  to  bed,"  declared  Dick. 

"  Oh,  I  cannot  sleep,  I  know,"  she  replied.  "  Why,  I 
don't  feel  as  if  I  should  ever,  ever  be  sleepy  again." 

Her  eyes  looked  like  it.     They  were  glowing  stars. 

"  But  you  must,  my  little  Queen,  for  to-morrow  needs 
some  strength  as  well  as  to-day.  Get  her  ready,  Kate." 

She  went  pirouetting  round  the  room  in  gay  abandon, 
humming  snatches  of  the  waltz,  and  laughing.  Now  that 
Dick  was  satisfied  with  her  she  was  perfectly  happy. 

He  did  not  chide,  yet  carried  her  to  bed  in  spite  of  her 
protestations. 

"  Oh,  Dick,  I  can't  sleep,"  she  said,  half  an  hour  after- 
wards. "  Won't  you  let  me  get  up,  and  sit  on  your  knee, 
while  you  and  Kate  talk  ?  " 

"  My  little  girl,  no.  You  must  be  quiet.  Let  me  see, 
I'll  read  to  you." 

M  Oh,  a  fairy  story  ?  But  didn't  they  all  look  beautiful 
to-night,  in  their  dresses  of  silver  ?  I  am  so  glad  that  I  can 
see  them  again  1 " 

"  Not  a  fairy  story  to-night,  my  dear.  Don't  you  re- 
member how  you  liked  the  odd  Indian  poem  I  was  reading 
the  other  day  ?  You  will  be  more  likely  to  go  to  sleep, 
and  to-morrow  you  shall  have  the  other." 


TITANIA.  Ill 

Queen  Titania  settled  her  golden  head  upon  the  pillow, 
and  watched  with  eyes  wide  open,  and  unnaturally  bril- 
liant. The  poem  was  Hiawatha.  The  musical  cadence, 
and  easy  flowing  repetitions,  floated  along  like  a  babbling 
stream.  Dick  Bridger  had  a  rich,  mellow  voice,  and  was 
a  very  fair  reader,  though  he  was  not  reading  now  for  elo- 
quence or  finished  style.  The  drowsy  measure  had  its 
effect  presently.  The  eyelids  began  to  droop,  the  languor 
of  repose  came  to  the  features,  to  the  soft  little  hands. 
Indeed,  more  than  once  she  seemed  to  have  floated  off  to 
shadowy  realms,  but  the  cessation  of  his  voice  roused  her, 
and  she  opened  her  eyes  again! 

"  At  last !  And  it  is  past  midnight.  What  a  little  witch 
the  child  is !  " 

"And  how  you've  humored  her  to-night,"  said  Kate, 
impatiently.  "  I  declare,  there  is  no  telling  how  you'll  be. 
One  time  you  half  kill  her,  and  now  there's  nothing  too 
good." 

"  You  are  an  idiot,  Kate.  I  should  like  to  see  you  train 
anything  for  the  stage,  or  manage  it,  even  if  it  were  a 
hearth-brush.  That  child  will  be  a  splendid  success.  I 
should  like  to  know  what  you  would  have  done  with  her," 
—  and  he  laughed  contemptuously.  "  If  I  live,  and  she 
shows  the  slightest  inclination,  she  shall  be  a  first-class 
actress.  None  of  your  Viviennes,  or  Helens,  or  dancing 
dolls,  but  a  first-class  star.  And  she  shall  love  me  as  if 
I  were  her  own  father." 

"  You  had  better  go  to  bed,"  said  Kate,  crossly,  with  a 
twinge  of  foolish  jealousy. 

But  he  sat  by  the  fire,  and  dreamed.  Had  he  ever  cared 
as  much  for  any  human  thing  as  for  this  little  girl  ? 

"  I'll  make  amends  to  her  for  everything,"  he  said,  softly. 
"  She  will  see  it  all,  sometime.  And  I'll  keep  her  from 
the  rabble,  too.  The  child  has  good  blood,  let  her  be  who 
she  will." 

For  Queen  Titania  the  engagement  was  a  series  of  bril 


112  LOST   IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 

liant  successes.  The  audience  saved  its  choicest  bouquets 
for  her,  and  after  the  performance  the  green-room  was 
thronged  by  curious  visitors  who  wanted  to  look  at  the 
marvellous  child,  and  who  were  entranced  by  her  grace 
and  beauty.  She  was  learning  one  phase  of  stage  manners 
rapidly.  Already  she  had  a  naive  self-possession,  a  readi- 
ness of  reply  akin  to  wit,  and  some  touches  of  coquetry  that 
are  the  natural  concomitants  of  beauty,  and  an  early 
induction  into  a  world  of  flattery.  The  leading  actresses 
besought  Signer  Barretti  to  bring  her  to  some  dainty  sup- 
per, half  given  in  her  honor;  and  they  vied  with  each  other 
in  gifts.  Dick's  engagement  was  lengthened  past  its  first 
limit,  until  it  was  absolutely  necessary  to  leave  for  a  neigh- 
boring city. 

And  now  she  came  heralded  with  fame.  People  crowd- 
ed to  see  her.  They  held  their  breath  when  she  made  her 
daring  leaps,  they  watched  entranced  as  she  sprang  from 
point  to  point,  as  she  danced  on  Dick's  shoulder,  or  bal- 
anced herself  on  his  hand.  One  spirit  seemed  to  animate 
both.  That  she  adored  her  master  was  evident,  and  that 
he  idolized  her  was  hardly  less  plain.  So  the  rumor  grew 
current  that  she  was  his  own  child,  and  no  one  would  have 
questioned  it  seriously. 

He  kept  her  from  the  rough  and  dangerous  side  of  stage 
association.  She  was  a  flower  to  be  tenderly  cared  for,  to  be 
set  in  some  choice  parterre.  Sometimes  Kate  rebelled,  with 
a  rather  ugly  show  of  jealousy ;  but  a  brooch,  or  a  new  gown 
brought  her  to  a  cheerful  mood  again,  and  in  her  way  she 
did  love  the  bewitching  little  queen. 

Had  the  child  forgotten  Maggie  and  her  dead  mother? 
It  was  true,  the  many  changes,  and  the  absorbing  scenes  of 
her  daily  life,  had  well-nigh  crowded  them  out.  Her  story 
had  been  so  doubted  and  discredited  that  she  more  than 
half  believed  Maggie  had  left  her  purposely  in  the  street. 
Her  remembrance  of  Mother  Mell  still  filled  her  with  dig 
gust. 


TITANIA.  113 

The  shy,  shrinking  child  had  changed  greatly.  The 
sacred  veil  of  innocent  childhood  had  been  rudely  rent 
asunder.  Not  so  very  long  ago  she  had  drawn  back  in 
affright  from  Dick's  eyes  when  Kate  had  attired  her  in 
scanty  stage-costume.  But  she  had  come  to  regard  herself 
with  a  most  unchildlike  complacence,  to  exult  at  the 
thought  of  the  round,  graceful  figure,  the  supple  limbs. 
She  had  posed  for  several  pictures ;  in  fact,  there  was  a 
perfect  rage  over  the  child  by  the  fickle  populace,  who 
crown  gods  with  gems  and  gold  one  day,  and  when  they 
fail  to  please,  thrust  them  aside  for  a  new  delight. 
8 


114  LOST  IN   A   GREAT  CITY. 


CHAPTER  XL 

THE   QUEEN   OP   THE   KING. 

"  COME  Larry,  come !  You  are  the  very  quintessence  eft 
laziness,  as  was  your  namesake  before  you.  Aunt  Alice, 
how  did  you  come  to  hit  the  nail  on  the  head  when  you 
named  him?" 

Mrs.  Byington  glanced  up  with  a  motherly  smile,  her 
needle,  with  its  brilliant  floss  silk,  suspended  in  mid-air. 

"Really,  Roger  —  " 

**  Oh,  Lai,  your  slow,  musical  voice  is  lazy.  You  ought 
to  have  been  born  a  lizard  or  a  water-spider,  so  that  you 
could  have  sunned  yourself  on  some  sandy  beach,  with  the 
croon  of  the  ocean  forever  in  your  ears.  You  promised  to 
go,  too;"  and  there  was  a  ring  of  petulance  in  the  voice. 

"  I  know  it,  Roger,  but  I  told  you  I  had  no  fancy  for  such 
amusements.  And  if  you  would  let  me  stay  at  home  —  " 

The  speaker  was  lying  indolently  on  a  broad,  low  couch, 
by  an  open  window.  There  was  a  long  reach  of  sand,  an 
eighth  of  a  mile  or  more,  between  him  and  the  sea,  —  the 
calm,  pale-green  sea,  that  lay  surging  in  slow  musical 
swells,  breaking  with  hardly  a  sparkle  in  the  yellow  after- 
noon sunshine.  Over  the  window  was  stretched  an  awning, 
with  a  green  lining,  that  gave  a  peculiar  cool  and  shady 
tone  to  the  room.  His  arms  were  folded  under  him,  and 
served  to  raise  his  shoulders,  while  his  eyes  were  fixed  on 
the  book  he  was  reading,  which,  in  truth,  he  was  loth  to 
leave.  A  youth  of  seventeen,  or  thereabout,  somewhat 
slender  and  pale,  with  fair  hair,  and  an  extremely  sweet, 
rather  than  handsome  face. 

The  room  was  spacious  and  summery,  in  cool  matting 


THE   QUEEN   OP  THE   RING.  115 

cane  and  bamboo  furniture,  and  lounges  covered  with 
light,  gay  chintzes.  Mrs.  Byington  was  at  another  win- 
dow, making  a  pretence  of  embroidering,  while  near  her 
sat  a  grave-looking  girl,  busy  with  some  fine  mending, 
The  only  other  occupant  was  a  round,  rosy,  gay-looking, 
restless  lad,  who  was  pacing  up  and  down,  with  the  ends 
of  his  fingers  thrust  daintily  in  his  pockets. 

"  But  I  want  to  go,  and  I  have  set  my  heart  upon  going. 
And  that  wonderful  trapeze-performer,  Barretti,  is  to  be 
with  the  crowd.  I've  never  seen  him,  you  know." 

"  Neither  have  I ;  and  if  I  never  did  I  should  hope  to  live 
all  the  same." 

"You  haven't  a  bit  of  enthusiasm,  Lai,  except  over 
a  tough  Greek  root,  or  somebody's  journey  to  the  moon. 
And  the  show  is  to  be  grand  beyond  compare !  Why, 
the  animals  alone  will  be  a  sight.  I  should  think  you 
would  want  to  see  them.  And  then  there  is  to  be  some 
magnificent  riding.  I  haven't  outgrown  my  childhood's 
love  of  a  circus.  Aunt  Alice,  suppose  you  go ;  that  will 
infuse  a  little  energy  into  Lai." 

Mrs.  Byington  smiled  again. 

"I  am  afraid,  Roger,  that  I  never  had  any  great  love 
for  such  performances.  Generally,  the  beasts  have  to  be 
pricked  and  goaded  into  the  semblance  of  animation ;  the 
riding  is  dangerous,  and  fills  me  with  dread,  and  I  am  always 
thinking  of  the  possible  accidents.  Suppose,  Roger  —  " 

"  Not  a  suppose  in  the  case,  auntie.  I  am  bound  to  go 
if  I  should  go  afoot  and  alone.  Hillo !  There's  Master 
George." 

"  Come,"  began  George,  as  he  rushed  in  like  a  whirlwind, 
"  are  you  not  ready?  The  stage  is  to  start  in  just  fifteen 
minutes,  and  there  is  to  be  a  procession  of  hotel  hacks 
Mamma,  suppose  you  go,  too  ?  " 

"  I've  been  trying  to  coax  her,  George." 

tt  Won't  you  ?    Oh,  please  do  ?    And  let's  take  Maggie 


116  LOST   IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 

Wouldn't  you  like  to  go  to  the  most  magnificent  circus  in 
the  world,  Maggie  ?  " 

"I  have  seen  several  in  my  day,"  returned  Maggie, 
quietly. 

"  Aunt  Alice,"  said  Roger,  with  a  laugh,  "  doesn't  Mag- 
gie talk  as  if  she  had  come  out  of  the  ark.  Her  day, 
indeed !  As  if  you  had  gone  into  a  convent,  and  your 
days  were  about  finished,  turned  into  night.  But  we  can't 
stay  fooling  around,  George.  We  must  brush  up,  and  make 
ourselves  beautiful." 

"Then  I  cannot  induce  you  to  stay  at  home?"  and  Aunt 
Alice  used  her  most  persuasive  tone. 

"  See  here,  auntie,  this  was  all  planned,  cut  and  dried,  a 
week  ago,  when  we  saw  the  first  poster.  And  if  Lai  will 
back  out  —  " 

"  Roger,  I  really  do  not  feel  equal  to  that  ride,  in  this 
broiling  sun.  If  you  will  be  induced  to  excuse  me." 

"Oh,  stay  at  home  if  you  want  to,"  returned  Roger, 
pettishly,  rushing  up-stairs  for  a  few  toilet  touches. 

"  The  boys  will  be  perfectly  safe,  I  suppose  ? "  Mrs. 
Byington  inquired,  apprehensively. 

"  Oh,  mother  dear,  Roger  is  older  than  I,  and  George 
never  pays  the  slightest  heed  to  what  I  say  when  he  is  by. 
And  to  do  Roger  justice,  he  never  forgets  that  he  is  a 
gentleman,  born  and  bred,  when  there  is  a  necessity  for  his 
remembering  it.  I  do  not  feel  equal  to  the  exertion  this 
warm  day,  and  the  pleasure  would  only  be  tiresome  to  me. 
But  they  will  enjoy  it." 

At  this  juncture  they  came  down,  ready. 

"  I  do  so  wish  you  were  going,  auntie  ;  but  you  and  Lai 
must  comfort  each  other  in  our  absence.  Good-by." 

"Try  and  not  run  into  any  danger,  George.  Do  be  care- 
ful, Roger,"  said  the  motherly  voice. 

"  I  have  no  ambition  to  ride  the  trick  mule,"  laughed 
Roger,  from  the  window,  outside. 

The  room  settled  into  quiet  again.     Lawrence   turned 


THE  QUEEN  OP  THE   RING.  117 

his  leaves  slowly,  Mrs.  Byington  fell  into  a  kind  of  dream, 
and  Margaret  Donald  went  on  with  her  mending.  The 
murmurous  rythm  of  the  sea  seemed  to  throb  on  the 
summer  air,  in  which  burned  sultry  August  heats. 

Margaret  had  become  a  kind  of  companion  to  Mrs. 
Byington.  The  interest,  hope,  disappointment,  and  grief 
they  had  shared  together  had  brought  them  to  a  peculiar 
equality  of  feeling,  though  their  social  relations  were  those 
of  mistress  and  maid.  But  Margaret  had  proved  herself 
sensible,  companionable,  and  the  boys  liked  her  wonder- 
fully, considering  how  grave  she  always  was  now. 

All  efforts  to  find  Nora  had  been  unavailing.  Mell 
Chafney  could  have  put  them  on  the  right  track,  but  she 
was  too  angry  with  Retzer  to  throw  the  reward  in  his 
way.  He  had  not  troubled  himself  about  the  child's  name, 
and  if  he  had  seen  the  advertisement  would  not  have  con- 
nected it  with  Mell's  little  stray.  Kate  Bridger  seldom 
looked  into  a  paper,  and  Nora's  story  was  not  one  to  arouse 
any  curiosity  on  Dick's  part.  To  him  she  was  simply  one 
of  many  little  waifs,  who  might  congratulate  herself,  as 
years  went  on,  that  she  had  fallen  into  such  good  hands. 

If  either  of  the  women  had  dreamed  she  was  so  near  to 
them  this  summer  day ;  that  half  of  Seaview  was  to  look 
upon  that  beautiful,  longed-for  face !  Why  was  there  not 
a  presentiment  in  the  very  air  ? 

Mrs.  Byington's  brother-in-law,  the  husband  of  her  dead 
sister,  had,  a  few  months  before,  claimed  her  motherly 
sympathy  for  his  son.  He  had  become  president  of  a  large 
mining  company  in  California,  and  had  resolved  to  spend 
the  next  five  years  on  the  spot.  His  beautiful  Maryland 
home  had  been  rented,  his  son  was  to  enter  the  same 
college  with  his  cousin,  the  ensuing  fall,  and  for  some  time 
Roger  Lasselle's  home  would  be  with  the  Byingtons.  So 
\t  had  been  considered  best  to  take  a  pleasant  sea-side 
cottage  for  the  whole  summer,  and  here  the  boys  disported 
themselves  at  their  pleasure.  At  little  distances  along  the 


118  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

beach  were  various  small  settlements,  while  two  miles 
farther  back  was  quite  a  flourishing  town.  It  was  here,  at 
Branchville,  that  the  grand  entertainment  of  the  season 
was  to  be  given.  An  unusually  fine  menagerie,  containing 
some  well-known  trained  animals,  one  of  the  celebrated 
bands  of  the  day,  and  several  of  the  most  accomplished 
equestriennes,  besides  the  trapeze  performer,  Signer  Barretti, 
and  the  wonderful  child  Queen  Titania. 

The  town  had  been  thronged  all  day.  Women  and 
children  had  come  in  from  the  outskirts  to  the  afternoon 
performance,  it  being  more  convenient  than  that  in  the 
evening.  And  Mrs.  Byington  had  stipulated  that  the 
boys  should  attend  the  first,  and  thus  be  enabled  to  return 
home  early. 

They  were  in  high  spirits.  Indeed,  Mrs.  Byington 
found  Roger  quite  an  addition  to  her  cares.  He  was  not 
a  bookworm,  like  Lawrence,  but  a  laughing,  mischievous, 
irrepressible  boy,  whom  George  admired  and  copied  con- 
tinually. Nearly  eighteen,  healthy,  handsome,  and  bright, 
he  kept  the  house  in  a  continual  stir. 

"  I  believe  it  is  my  fate  to  have  all  sous,  and  no  daugh- 
ters," Mrs.  Byington  said  to  her  husband,  with  a  faint 
smile. 

"  But  if  she  were  a  Miss  Lasselle,  think  how  attached 
to  her  you  would  become  in  five  years.  And  then  the 
parting !  "  was  his  half-grave,  half-humorous  reply. 

When  the  sun  had  gone  down,  Lawrence  and  his 
mother  went  to  walk  upon  the  beach,  and  plunged  into 
one  of  their  interminable  talks,  as  Roger  styled  them.  The 
boy  adored  his  mother.  He  had  been  strangely  interested, 
too,  in  all  that  had  concerned  Nora.  Circumstances 
seemed  destined  to  keep  the  incidents  alive.  Mr.  Bying- 
ton had  deemed  it  best,  when  six  months  elapsed,  to 
acquaint  the  father  of  little  Elsinore  with  the  sad  tidings. 
He  begged  them  to  continue  the  search,  but  they  could 
think  of  nothing  else  to  do. 


THE  QUEEN   OP  THE  KINO.  119 

Maggie  had  already  given  her  up  for  dead.  It  did  not 
seem  possible  to  her  that  she  could  be  alive,  and  not  found 
somewhere.  Homes  and  institutions  were  searched,  but 
vainly.  She  accepted  the  sad  fate  with  a  quiet  despair 
that  often  made  Mrs.  Byington's  heart  ache. 

Now,  as  twilight  came  on,  she  arranged  the  supper- 
table,  lighted  the  lamps,  and  then  sat  out  on  the  porch  to 
watch,  while  the  mother  and  son  walked  up  and  down, 
listening.  Presently,  the  crunch  of  wheels  was  heard,  and 
a  commingling  of  many  merry  voices.  The  stage  stopped, 
and  the  two  boys  sprang  out. 

"  Oh,  auntie,  if  you  only  had  gone  ! "  and  Roger  threw 
his  arms  around  her  neck,  kissing  her  soft  pink  cheek. 
"Why,  the  riding  excited  me  so  I  had  half  a  mind  to  apply 
for  a  position  straightway!  The  vaulting  was  superb, 
and  the  bare-back  riding  just  magnificent !  Such  splen- 
did animals,  trained  to  a  thought,  it  seems  to  me.  Do  you 
know,  I  did  want  to  stay  in  the  evening,  but  there  was  my 
promise  to  you." 

w  And  I  am  glad  you  had  the  strength  of  mind  to  keep 
your  word.  I  should  have  been  worried." 

"I  never  broke  a  solemn  promise  in  my  life,  —  papa  can 
tell  you  that,  —  and  I  should  be  a  boor  to  break  one  to  a 
woman  ; "  he  said  with  a  graceful  assumption  of  chivalry, 
while  his  eyes  sparkled.  **  But  wasn't  it  hard  to  tear  our- 
selves away,  George  ?  " 

"  Alas !  alas !  mother  why  are  you  so  worried  when  we 
are  home  with  you !  Think  of  the  weeks  and  months 
when  you  hear  only  what  we  send  in  a  letter.  Yet  you 
trust  us  then  not  to  run  into  dangers." 

"  I  know  you  are  safe  at  school,  and  that  your  teachers 
are  caring  for  you.  Beside,  George,  I  think  even  at  school 
you  have  some  regard  for  your  father's  wishes,  and  mine;" 
and  she  glanced  up  with  a  trustful  smile. 

"  Dear  mamma,  yes.  And  I  should  hope  to  have  as 
much  regard  elsewhere  ;  this  afternoon,  for  instance." 


120  LOST   IN    A   GREAT  CITY. 

"  I  suppose,  George,"  and  she  twined  her  soft  fingers  it 
his  curly  hair,  "  we  mothers  as  a  general  thing  are  afraid 
of  strong  temptations.  Very  few  boys  set  out  deliberately 
to  do  wrong,  and  break  their  parents'  hearts.  Only  there 
comes  some  irresistible  wave,  and  the  boy  yields  this  once, 
thinking  he  will  never  do  it  again.  But  frequently  no 
ill  consequences  follow  the  first  step,  and  he  is  emboldened 
to  go  on  until  the  results  are  most  dangerous." 

"  But,  auntie,"  said  Roger,  "  there  wasn't  the  slightest 
danger  this  afternoon.  In  the  first  place,  the  entertain- 
ment, and  the  people  connected  with  it,  were  most  reputa- 
ble, and  the  audience  comprised  the  guests  about  here, 
whom  we  meet  daily.  Then  the  performance  was  mostly 
feats  of  skill  and  daring,  the  result  of  the  best  and  finest 
training.  Men  who  do  such  things  must  be  clear-headed, 
and  of  steady  nerves,  and  —  well,  I  suppose  you  will  think 
me  a  little  cracked  on  the  subject  of  physical  training,  but 
you  see  papa  believed  in  it  so  strongly.  I've  ridden  almost 
everything,  and  had  a  gymnasium  ever  since  I  could  re- 
member. Papa  had  a  horror  of  a  boy  being  a  molly- 
coddle. And  I  couldn't  help  being  stirred  and  inspired 
this  afternoon,  and  all  the  blood  in  my  veins  took  a  race. 
And  when  that  Barretti  came  on  the  stage  — " 

"But  the  child!"  interupted  George.  "Oh,  mamma, 
you  never  saw  anything  so  beautiful !  A  bit  of  a  fairy, 
with  great  black  eyes  and  long  golden  hair  —  the  most 
beautiful  hair  in  the  world,  I  think,  shining  just  like 
threads  of  silk.  Why,  you  can  scarcely  believe  it  is  a  real 
child." 

"  A  little  girl,  too,"  said  Mrs.  Byington,  pityingly. 

"  But  she  is  with  her  father  —  is'nt  it  her  father,  Roger, 
don't  you  think?" 

"  Why  —  I  suppose  he  may  be,  though  it  had  not  oc- 
curred to  me  before.  They  do  look  alike,  that  is,  they  are 
both  fair,  and  Barretti's  hair  is  not  very  dark.  And  then, 
she  loves  him  so.  Oh,  auntie,  it  was  reully  worth  while  to 


THE   QUEEN   OP  THE   RING.  121 

go,  just  to  see  them.  He  is  so  proud  of  her,  and  she  just 
worships  him.  And  her  feats  are  enough  to  take  your 
breath  away." 

"Well,  let  us  come  to  supper,"  exclaimed  Lawrence, 
**  and  hear  the  rest  at  the  table.  Just  see  —  it  is  eight 
o'clock." 

They  took  their  seats,  and  Maggie  came  in  to  wait  upon 
them.  She  was  so  quiet  and  refined  that  she  seldom 
seemed  any  restraint  to  the  conversation. 

Roger  continued,  warming  with  his  theme,  George  break- 
ing in,  now  and  then,  to  the  full  as  enthusiastic.  Barretti's 
perfection  of  figure,  muscle,  training,  and  achievements, 
mingled  with  Queen  Titania's  graces,  and  wonderful  per- 
formances. 

"There  always  will  be  a  great  charm  about  athletic 
sports,"  said  Mrs.  Byington.  "And  yet,  I  cannot  help 
but  think  of  the  stories  of  cruel  training  that  come  to 
light  now  and  then,  of  poor  little  children  maimed  or 
killed  by  a  fatal  fall.  I  do  not  expect  to  convert  the 
world  to  my  way  of  thinking,  and  yet  it  seems  as  if  I 
should  have  sat  in  dread  for  the  fate  of  your  beautiful 
little  Queen  Titania.  If  she  were  my  little  girl,  nay, 
suppose  she  were  even  this  little  Elsinore,  whose  fate  we 
have  all  been  so  interested  in,  would  we  be  willing  for  a 
moment  to  leave  her  there  ?  Would  we  think  it  a  fitting 
life  for  her  ?  " 

"Why,  of  course  not,"  returned  Roger,  "but  on  the 
other  hand  you  might  not  care  to  adopt  Barretti's  daugh- 
ter, and  bring  her  up  as  a  sister  to  Lai  and  George." 

"I'd  consent  in  a  minute,"  declared  George.  "Why, 
mother,  she's  handsomer  than  that  picture,  ever  so  much. 
Where  is  it  ?  You  never  saw  it,  Roger,  did  you  ?  " 

"  No,  but  I'd  like  to.  There  couldn't  be  anything  lov- 
Her  than  Barretti's  daughter.  And  she's  such  a  mite !  Do 
yon  know,  if  ever  I  have  an  opportunity,  I  mean  to  get 
acquainted  with  that  Barretti." 


122  LOST  IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 

"You  must  make  allowance  for  stage  glamour,"  sai 
rence,  gravely. 

"  Let  us  have  the  picture,  and  decide.  Can  Maggie  get 
it  ?  I  have  almost  forgotten,"  said  George.  "  This  little 
Nora,  as  Maggie  calls  her,  had  light  curls." 

"  And  lovely  dark-brown  eyes,  which  is  quite  an  unusual 
combination.  I  am  sorry  we  cannot  have  it  just  now;  but 
when  I  was  packing  up  the  silver,  to  send  to  the  bank,  I 
put  in  a  case  of  my  jewels  that  I  did  not  care  to  bring 
with  me,  and  the  miniature  was  with  them.  Maggie  is  so 
afraid  now  that  it  will  be  lost,  that  I  sometimes  feel  quite 
nervous  about  it.  We  want  to  keep  it  for  the  father." 

"  Then  I  shall  have  no  rival  in  my  first  love,"  said  Roger, 
laughing.  "  I  am  positively  smitten,  aunt,  by  the  radian* 
beauty  of  this  little  queen.  When  I  take  my  college  de- 
gree I  shall  turn  knight-errant,  and  hunt  her  up." 

u  I  hope  she  will  have  been  crowded  out  of  your  mind 
long  before  that." 

Margaret  had  been  out  of  the  room  during  the  latter 
part  of  the  conversation,  and  now  they  turned  from  Queen 
Titania  to  athletic  sports  in  general,  and  in  all  ages.  Mrs. 
Byington  quoted  the  Dacian  Gladiator. 

*' '  Butchered  to  make  a  Koman  Holiday ; '  * 

but  Roger  laughingly  declared  that  Barretti  was  a  great 
and  enjoyable  modern  improvement  on  the  sports  of  those 
old  days. 

Yet  the  race  of  prize-fighters  is  not  quite  extinct.  I 
cannot  believe  a  man's  glory  lies  chiefly  in  the  cultivation 
of  mere  brute  strength  and  agility. 

While  they  talked  through  the  quiet  evening,  fanned  by 
the  cool  murmurous  breezes  of  the  sea,  Queen  Titania,  in 
the  midst  of  heat  and  glare,  listened  to  the  rapturous  ap- 
plause with  a  pleased,  yet  throbbing  heart,  finding  her 
most  gratifying  commendation  in  Dick's  face.  For  she 
had  come  to  love  him  with  a  passionate  fervor  that  most 


THE  QUEEN   OF  THE   RING.  123 

people  translated  as  an  evidence  of  the  relationship  between 
them. 

Not  even  her  wildest  fancy  could  have  imagined  Maggie 
so  near ;  the  Maggie  who  now  was  but  a  memory.  Perhaps 
she  would  hardly  have  exchanged  her  present  life,  with  its 
excitement,  gaiety,  and  many  enchanting  phases,  for  the 
quiet  of  the  seaside  cottage,  and  friends  who  were  all 
strange  to  her.  But  so  near  had  they  come,  —  and  yet  there 
might  be  a  whole  lifetime  between  ! 

For  days  Seaview,  and  indeed  all  the  small  points  along 
the  shore,  discussed  warmly  and  eagerly  the  wonders  and 
accomplishments  of  the  Troupe ;  then  a  new  excitement 
took  its  place,  and  presently  summer  ended.  Lawrence 
and  Roger  said  their  good-byes,  and  departed  for  Harvard  ; 
and  George  returned  to  his  school.  The  Byingtons  went 
the  even  tenor  of  their  way,  prospering,  and  with  few 
changes.  The  following  summer  Mr.  Lasselle  sent  for 
Roger  and  Lawrence  to  meet  him  in  California,  and  take 
a  tour  through  the  wonders  of  the  famed  State.  They 
were  both  growing  into  fine  young  men.  Larry's  steadi- 
ness, and  studious  ways,  exerted  a  beneficial  influence  over 
Roger,  who  was  eager,  impetuous,  and  with  a  facile,  pleas- 
ure-loving temperament,  though  he  possessed  a  good  deal 
of  pride  and  ambition  to  excel.  Mr.  Lasselle  congratulated 
himself  that  Roger  had  fallen  into  such  good  hands. 

Another  year  of  study  followed  this,  rather  severer  than 
the  first,  but  both  boys  acquitted  themselves  creditably. 
Boys,  indeed !  Mrs.  Byington  looked  at  them  in  amaze 
as  they  presented  themselves  for  her  welcome.  Roger  was 
nearly  twenty  now,  a  tall,  bright,  vivacious  youth,  full  of 
life  and  energy,  his  very  face  inspiriting,  with  its  brilliant 
dark  eyes,  its  clear  complexion,  the  creamy  tint  not  so 
dark  as  olive,  in  fine  contrast  with  the  rose-hued  cheeks. 
A  dainty  suggestion  of  mustache  shaded  his  lip,  and  his 
broad  chin  was  cleft  with  a  dimple.  A  great  favorite  with 
girls  was  Mr.  Roger  Lasselle. 


124  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

Lawrence  Byington  was  as  tall,  but  much  slenderer;  and 
it  seemed  now  as  if  there  might  be  a  year  instead  of  six 
months  difference  in  their  ages,  if  you  judged  by  the  face 
alone.  Lawrence  was  fair,  with  deep,  thoughtful,  gray 
eyes,  and  a  more  intellectual  cast  of  countenance,  with 
much  of  his  mother's  grave  sweetness.  But  he  still  kept 
the  quiet  ascendency  over  his  cousin  that  had  been  notice- 
able from  the  first. 

"  How  delightfully  home-like  this  is,"  Roger  said  after  the 
late  dinner,  as  he  stretched  himself  out  on  the  luxurious 
couch  in  his  aunt's  sitting-room.  "  I  am  tired  to  death  with 
my  year's  digging  and  delving  in  the  gardens  of  other  men's 
minds ;  now  isn't  that  a  neat  sentiment  ?  Sometimes  I 
wish  I  had  not  gone  to  Harvard,  for  you  must  know  that  I 
should  be  quite  ashamed  to  lag  much  behind  Lai,  and  he  is 
such  a  sixty-horse  power  student.  Look  at  his  pale  face, 
and  the  careworn  line  between  his  brows,  and  I  half  be- 
lieve he  has  tried  to  work  my  roses  into  pale  shadows,  out 
of  pure  envy." 

"You  have  not  lost  very  much,  I  think,"  said  his  aunt 
with  fond  pride.  "  But  Lai  does  look  as  if  he  needed  a 
little  seaside,  or  mountains,  or  something." 

"If  papa  had  his  country's  good  at  heart  he  would  ask 
us  to  California  again.  We  did  not  half  see  it  last  sum- 
mer. But  I  feel  now  as  if  I  could  spend  a  week  on  this 
lounge,  and  have  every  meal  brought  to  me." 

Maggie  came  in  at  this  juncture,  and  lighted  up.  Roger 
had  been  playing  idly  with  his  aunt's  rings  as  he  held  her 
hand,  but  now  he  gave  a  sudden  start. 

"What  is  that  picture  over  yonder,  Aunt  Alice,  —  that 
child  ?  Some  of  the  Byington  nieces  ?  " 

"  That  ? "  and  she  followed  the  direction  of  his  eyes. 
"  Oh,  no.  That  is  our  romance.  I  wrote  to  Lawrence,  I 
think,  that  the  father  of  the  little  lost  Elsinore  came  to 
America  in  the  winter.  He  is  an  artist  of  considerable 


THE   QUEEN   OF   THE   RING.  125 

merit,  and  painted  that  picture  from  two  likenesses  in 
Maggie's  charge,  and  her  description  of  the  child." 

"  Is  that  really  it  ?  "  and  Lawrence  sprang  up  to  inspect 
the  portrait.  "  O  yes,  I  remember  now.  What  a  lovely 
face  the  child  has ! " 

Roger  joined  him.  "  I  never  saw  the  picture,  you  know : 
it  was  packed  up  somewhere  when  you  were  at  Seaview." 

"  He  painted  it  as  he  fancied  she  would  look  now.  He 
copied  the  portrait,  too,  and  gave  me  my  choice ;  but  I  pre- 
ferred this.  We  liked  him  so  much,  your  uncle  insisted 
upon  his  being  our  guest  for  a  while.  He  has  had  such  a 
romantic,  eventful  history,  and  has  twice  been  a  political 
prisoner.  Now  he  has  succeeded  to  a  very  comfortable 
fortune,  and  the  title  of  baron,  but  he  would  willingly  give 
up  everything  if  he  could  have  his  wife  and  child  in- 
stead." 

"  A  real  baron !  Why,  mamma,  you  were  quite  honored," 
said  Lawrence,  with  a  smile. 

"Oh,  why  didn't  we  have  a  marriageable  sister?"  ex- 
claimed George.  "  Baroness  Waldeburgh !  Wouldn't  that 
sound  grand ! " 

"  And  where  is  he  now  ?  "  asked  Lawrence. 

"  He  has  gone  to  Rome,  and  will  probably  spend  some 
years  there,  engaged  with  his  art.  He  is  an  elegant  and 
cultivated  gentleman.  I  thought,  at  first,  that  Maggie's 
heart  would  break.  She  blames  herself  so  for  the  loss  of 
Nora,  and  I  feel  as  if  we,  too,  had  been  the  unwitting  in- 
struments of  a  great  and  life-long  sorrow." 

"  How  curious  that  we  should  have  been  brought  in  con- 
tact with  these  strangers,"  said  Lawrence.  "  You  remem- 
ber that  George  and  I  were  in  Canada,  with  Aunt  Keith, 
that  summer.  We  thought  you  never  would  come,  and 
were  so  disappointed  at  having  to  visit  the  places  of  note 
without  you.  And  there  has  not  been  the  slightest  clew 
discovered  ?  " 

"  No.    The  child  must  be  dead.     She  was  old  enough, 


126  LOST   IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 

you  see,  to  tell  her  name,  and  give  some  account  of  her- 
self.  If  she  only  had  staid  a  few  days  longer  with  those 
miserable  people  we  should  have  found  her ;  but  I  suppose 
she  set  oiF  to  find  Maggie,  and  God  only  can  tell  the  rest. 
But  another  odd  little  incident  has  grown  out  of  it.  The 
boy  who  first  found  her,  Tim  Chafney  by  name,  quite  in- 
terested your  father,  and  he  provided  him  some  employ- 
ment for  a  while.  It  seems  the  father  belonged  to  a 
gang  of  burglars,  and  was  caught,  and  sent  to  prison,  and 
the  mother  —  or  Tim's  stepmother  she  was  —  plunged  into 
the  depths  of  vice.  At  the  desire  of  Mr.  Waldeburgh,  your 
father  found  Tim  again,  and  he  is  now  apprenticed  to  a 
machinist.  If  he  behaves  himself  well  and  is  steady,  he 
will  have  five  hundred  dollars  when  he  is  twenty-one.  He 
seems  a  bright,  ambitious  lad,  and  Mr.  Waldeburgh  ap- 
pears to  have  great  sympathy  for  him." 

Roger  had  been  studying  the  portrait  all  this  while. 
Now  he  turned,  with  a  puzzled  face  : 

"  I  can't  make  it  out,  Aunt  Alice,  but  I  am  sure  I  have 
seen  that  child  somewhere.  I  can  always  connect  faces  so 
easily,  too ;  but  this  floats  in  my  mind  like  a  dream. 

"  There  are  a  good  many  children  who  might  look  some- 
thing like  it.  And  I'll  tell  you  one.  Don't  you  remem- 
ber Phil  Gray's  little  niece  that  he  is  so  proud  of?  " 

"Mrs.  Barringer's  child?  Yes,  in  the  connection  of 
having  dark  eyes  and  light  hair.  But  this  is  a  nobler  face." 

"  Idealized,  probably." 

"  It  has  a  good  deal  the  expression  of  the  child's  father. 
And  see !  here  is  a  photograph,  and  here  a  baby  ambrotype. 
You  can  see  the  likeness  running  through  all." 

Roger  went  back  to  his  lounge.  Mr.  Byington  came  in, 
and  the  conversation  turned  on  what  they  should  do  dur- 
ing the  summer  vacation,  as  the  best  way  of  gaining 
strength  and  vigor.  Roger  came  out  now  and  then  with 
a  bright  rejoinder,  but  soon  lapsed  into  silence  again. 

Every  time  he  entered   his   aunt's  room  the  likeness 


THE   QUEEN   OF   THE    RING.  127 

haunted  him.  What  was  it  ?  Who  was  it  ?  Surely  he 
had  seen  something  wonderfully  like  this  in  the  flesh. 
The  eyes  had  flashed,  the  lips  smiled. 

"  Hallo,  George  !  "  he  cried,  a  few  days  afterward,  starting 
up  suddenly,  "  I've  found  it,  solved  the  mystery.  Don't 
you  remember  that  wonderful  little  queen  Titania  we  saw 
at  Branch ville  ?  This  picture  might  have  been  painted 
from  her." 

"  Why,  yes ;  I  never  thought  of  her." 

"  I  so  seldom  forget  a  face !  Oh,  Lai,  I  wish  you  had 
gone  that  day,  or  aunt,  or  Maggie !  I  wish  some  one  else 
had  seen  her.  Why,  the  likeness  would  have  startled  you. 
Just  that  same  high-bred  air,  as  if  the  world  was  hardly 
good  enough.  And  that  reminds  me,  what  has  become  of 
her  ?  Does  anybody  know  ?  " 

"  She  was  advertised  to  act  somewhere  the  first  of  the 
winter.  I  don't  remember,  but  I  saw  it  in  some  paper." 

"Your  hero,  Barretti,  came  to  grief,  as  I  suppose  you 
know  ?  "  said  Aunt  Alice. 

"  No  ?  what  ?  "  inquired  Roger,  all  interest. 

"  Why,  I  think  it  was  not  long  after  our  return  from 
Seaview.  Uncle  Edward  read  it  among  the  casualties. 
Do  you  not  remember  that  I  wrote  to  ask  if  either  of  you 
boys  had  taken  your  pistols  with  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  and  Roger  laughed.  "  Dear  auntie,  you  are  al- 
ways conjuring  up  dangers." 

"  Well,  that  put  it  in  my  mind.  It  seems  Signer  Barretti 
and  some  others  were  examining  a  pistol.  I  may  not  re- 
member it  exactly,  but  some  of  the  party  said  it  was  not 
loaded  with  a  ball,  and  snapped  it,  when  the  whole  charge 
entered  Barretti's  side.  It  did  not  kill  him  instantly,  but  I 
am  quite  sure  he  died  from  the  wound.  And  I  have  al- 
ways had  such  a  dread  of  fire-arms ! " 

"But  if  she  was  Barretti's  child,"  interposed  George, 
u  she  could  not  be  *  Lost  Lenore,  the  rare  and  radiant 
maiden '  ?  " 


128  LOST   IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 

"  Poor  Barretti,"  said  Roger,  in  tones  of  deepest  sympa- 
thy. "  And  he  was  such  a  splendid  fellow  as  to  physique. 
He  must  have  been  tender  of  his  child,  or  she  would  not 
have  loved  him  so.  I  suppose  she  was  his  child,  but  the 
resemblance  is  wonderful,  is  it  not,  George  ?  " 

George  was  trying,  in  true  boy  fashion,  to  convince  his 
mother  that  pistols  were  not  necessarily  dangerous,  but 
very  useful.  One  must  needs  be  careful,  and  all  these  acci- 
dents were  the  result  of  sheer  carelessness.  So  Roger 
dreamed  over  the  picture  and  wondered.  If  the  child 
were  Barretti's  own,  was  she  still  performing  ?  And  if  not, 
he  was  wiser  now  than  he  had  been  two  years  ago.  With 
added  experience,  he  felt  that  the  ring  of  a  circus,  or  the 
stage  of  a  popular  theatre,  was  a  dangerous  place  for  a 
beautiful  child. 

Roger  Lasselle  had  a  vein  of  romantic  chivalry.  It  wasn't 
at  all  likely  that  Queen  Titania,  and  this  lovely  child,  El- 
sinore,  was  the  same,  and  everybody  was  interested  in  the 
latter,  while  Titania  had  hardly  a  thought.  But  he  meant 
to  find  her,  and  to  keep  watch  over  her  destiny.  He  had 
a  generous  father,  and  plenty  of  money  at  his  command, 
and  he  would  work  in  secret,  saying  nothing  until  there 
was  some  story  to  tell. 


THIS   SIDE   QUEENIE,  THAT  SIDE   DICK.  129 


CHAPTER  XII. 

O1C  THIS   SIDE   QUEENIE,   ON    THAT   SIDE   DICK. 

IT  was  true  that  Signer  Barretti,  with  his  perfect  health, 
his  splendid  training  and  physique,  and  the  strength  that 
might  have  made  an  octogenarian  of  him,  had  been  sent 
out  of  life  by  a  careless  hand.  The  pistol  had  not  been 
pointed  at  him  :  it  had  been  a  pure  accident,  yet  one  of  the 
incidents  that  happen  so  frequently,  and  fail  to  teach 
human  nature  wisdom. 

Titania,  —  Kate  loftily  ignored  any  other  name,  "for 
Nora,  you  must  admit,  sounds  very  much  like  Irish,"  she 
said  to  the  little  girl,  —  Titania  was  shocked  and  stunned 
by  the  blow.  At  the  second  examination  the  doctor  had 
pronounced  it  a  mortal  wound,  though  from  the  very 
strength  of  his  constitution  he  might  linger  a  week,  perhaps. 
He  did  more.  There  were  twelve  days  of  intense,  excru- 
ciating suffering,  many  hours  of  delirium,  but  in  his  sane 
moments  he  could  not  endure  the  child  out  of  his  sight. 
She  sat  perched  up  on  the  bed,  holding  his  hand,  or  smooth- 
ing his  brow,  or  perhaps  pressing  her  soft  cheek  against 
his,  so  throbbing  and  fevered.  All  the  while  there  was  a 
strange,  questioning  terror  in  her  eyes.  Her  own  mother's 
death  had  fallen  so  far  into  the  background  that  she  could 
only  remember  a  white,  hushed  face  and  folded  hands.  But 
how  could  she  live  without  Dick?  Who  would  love  her 
and  care  for  her,  take  her  to  ride,  bring  her  dainties,  wrap 
her  up  nice  and  warm,  read  her  to  sleep  when  she  was 
tired,  when  every  joint  in  her  body  ached  ?  Young  as  she 
was,  she  understood  that  Dick  was  her  protector.  No  one 
Was  allowed  to  tease  or  torment  her,  she  was  kept  alike 
9 


130  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

from  Kate's  foolish  indulgence  and  selfish  tyranny.  She 
loved  Kate,  too  ;  but  she  seemed  to  have  an  intuitive  per- 
ception of  her  ill-judgment,  her  weakness  and  vanities. 
Her  very  training  had  given  her  a  precocious  maturity  of 
decision,  a  stern  and  upright  strength  of  mind.  And  by 
nature  she  was  both  truthful  and  honest.  She  saw  through 
Kate's  petty  subterfuges  and  deceits,  when  simple  truth 
would  have  answered  the  purpose  better. 

Dick  was  so  hopeful  for  the  first  week  that  no  one  had 
the  courage  to  tell  him  that  the  wound  was  mortal.  It 
was  only  when  he  felt  himself  growing  weaker,  and  knew 
that  the  paroxysms  of  delirium  were  more  violent,  that  he 
began  to  suspect  the  end  might  be  near. 

And  then  his  heart  filled  with  an  overwhelming  love  and 
pity  for  Titania.  He  had  paid  so  little  attention  to  her 
story  in  the  beginning ;  but  he  wondered  now,  in  a  vague, 
desultory  manner,  if  the  child  really  had  a  father  some- 
where ?  How  he  would  love  her  if  he  came  to  know  her, 
the  brave  little  beauty!  Must  he  leave  her  to  stage  life 
and  associations,  with  no  better  hands  than  Kate's  to  guard 
and  guide  her?  It  began  to  trouble  him  sorely. 

tt  Kate,"  he  said,  in  one  of  his  lucid  moments,  "  I  would 
like  to  see  a  lawyer,  I  want  to  settle  my  affairs  to  my 
mind." 

a  Yes,"  answered  Kate,  weeping  at  this  sign  of  approach- 
ing death.  "  Who  would  you  like,  Dick  ?" 

His  mind  began  to  waver  again.  "Send  for  little 
Queenie's  father.  He  ought  to  have  her,  Kate." 

Queen  Titania  looked  with  wild,  astonished  eyes. 

"  But  you  said  my  own  papa  was  dead  ! "  she  exclaimed. 

«*  Is  he  dead  ?  I  don't  know,  Kate,"  and  he  attempted 
to  rise,  suddenly,  but  fell  back  on  the  pillow  again.  "  I 
must  do  something  for  her.  If  I  could  get  well  she  might 
make  her  own  fortune  you  see,  but  I  don't  know  who  to 
trust  her  with.  She  is  so  young,  so  lovely." 

"As  if  you  couldn't  trust  me,"  cried  Kate.     "  Why,  I 


THIS  SIDE   QUEENIE,  THAT   SIDE   DICK.  131 

love  the  child  as  my  own.  I'm  sure  I  should  be  as  good 
to  her  as  you  are." 

"  It  was  not  that.  Let  me  see,  what  did  I  mean  ?  She 
ought  to  have  some  money,  Kate.  I  must  fix  it  so  —  you 
are  not  a  wise  or  prudent  woman,  Kate." 

Kate  Bridger  was  grandly  huffed  at  this. 

"  I  am  as  wise  as  most  people,"  she  cried  indignantly,  her 
face  scarlet. 

"My  poor  little  Queenie,  my  darling  Queenie,"  and  he 
clutched  at  the  small  hand.  "  There's  nothing  to  be  afraid 
of.  There,  swing  off,  so !  You  go  like  a  bird.  In  two 
years  time  there  will  not  be  your  equal  on  the  stage.  And 
you  are  mine,  mine !  my  own  little  girl.  I  love  you, 
Queenie.  Kiss  me  my  darling.  Don't  hold  anger  against 
me.  Ah,  do  you  remember  when  you  ran  away?  You 
have  a  brave,  strong,  splendid  nature,  child.  If  you  were  a 
woman  —  ah,  hear  the  encores !  Have  they  smothered 
you  with  flowers,  my  darling ! " 

And  so  on,  and  on,  until  the  doctor  came,  leaving  an 
anodyne  for  him,  and  shaking  his  head,  then  going  out 
softly.  Other  people  coming  in,  looking  at  him,  and  at 
the  white,  tearless,  quiet  child  who  held  his  hand,  and 
would  hardly  be  persuaded  to  leave  him  for  an  instant. 
Kate  experienced  a  bitter  jealously.  She  could  not  send 
Titania  away,  but  she  hated  to  see  her  there,  taking  Dick's 
last  kisses. 

The  lawyer  came  at  one  of  his  wildest  moments. 

M  He  certainly  is  not  capable  of  doing  any  business,  was 
the  decisive  comment.  "  Did  he  ever  make  a  will,  to  your 
knowledge?" 

"  He  did,  once,"  answered  Kate.  "  It  was  long  ago.  He 
had  a  wretched,  intemperate  brother,  and  he  declared  that 
David  never  should  have  a  penny  of  his ;  but  poor  Davy 
died,  and  Dick  buried  him,  and  all  that.  The  papers  are 
at  our  house,  on  Long  Island.  Dick  has  a  safe  there,  built 
in  a  closet.  No  one  would  ever  suspect." 


132  LOST   IN  A   GREAT   CITY. 

"  Then  I  think  it  is  best  not  to  worry  him.  You  and 
your  child  will  be  all  right  anyhow.  The  law  will  take 
care  of  that.  Doctor  Sayre  said  he  could  not  last  twenty- 
four  hours.  What  a  pity !  Such  a  magnificent  physique 
as  the  man  had  !  Fire-arms  and  kerosene  are  two  enemies 
of  the  human  race,  and  yet  people  go  on  hugging  them  to 
their  bosoms  as  dearest  friends,  instead  of  holding  them  r.t 
arm's  length,  as  enemies.  Well,  if  he  can  see  me  in  any 
rational  moment  I  shall  be  glad  to  come,  but  I  wouldn't 
disturb  him." 

Kate  nodded,  and  wiped  a  tear  from  the  corner  of  her 
eye.  After  all,  what  right  had  this  little  beggar,  picked 
out  of  the  street,  to  Dick's  money  ?  She  had  taken  his 
love,  she  should  not  have  everything. 

For  the  last  forty-eight  hours  Dick  was  wandering 
among  the  scenes  of  the  past,  or  in  a  stupor  from  opiates 
given  to  dull  the  excruciating  pain.  Titania  slept  beside 
him  on  the  bed,  ate  the  delicacies  prepared  for  him,  and 
resisted  every  attempt  to  remove  her,  always  seconded  by 
Dick,  who  appeared  to  understand  this  when  he  had  for- 
gotten all  other  things. 

Just  at  dusk  he  roused  himself. 

"  Where  have  I  been,  Kate  ?  Was  it  a  fall,  or  fever  ? 
Why,  I  am  weak  as  a  baby.  Titania,  my  darling,  what 
have  you  been  doing?  You  are  white  as  a  ghost,  and  your 
great  brown  eyes  browner  than  ever.  Did  we  finish  the 
engagement  ?  I  can't  remember.  What  are  you  crying 
for,  Kate  ?" 

There  was  no  answer. 

The  puzzled  brows  knit  thoughtfully,  and  there  came  a 
kind  of  wild  terror  in  the  eyes. 

«  Good  God ! "  he  cried.  «  Am  I  dying,  Kate  ?  Oh,  I 
remember  now.  Heaven  help  me.  Oh,  my  little  darling  ! 
Be  good  to  her,  Kate.  Don't  ever  let  —  " 

There  was  a  gasp  and  a  shiver.  The  hands  clutched  at 
vacancy  with  a  deathly  strength,  and  then  dropped. 


THIS   SIDE   QUEENIE,  THAT  SIDE  DICK.  133 

"  Oh,  Dick !  Dick ! "  the  child  cried  in  accents  of  woe, 
pressing  her  check  against  his.  "  Dear  Dick ! " 

And  in  that  close  embrace  they  were  found,  when  Kate, 
in  wild  fear,  summoned  the  gossiping  nurse  from  her  retreat 
in  the  kitchen.  They  carried  Titania  away  by  sheer  force, 
put  her  to  bed  and  locked  her  in  the  room ;  and  there  the 
poor  child  battled  many  hours  with  a  new  and  nameless 
hoiTor. 

She  did  not  see  Dick  again  until  he  was  dressed  and  in 
his  coffin.  Wasted  by  the  pain  and  suffering,  and  yet  all 
the  latent  nobleness  came  out  in  these  still,  white  features. 
Kate  was  gratified  with  the  admiring  glances  bestowed,  the 
honors  and  attention  paid  both  him  and  her.  She  sat 
there  in  her  heavy  mourning,  her  long  veil  flowing  around 
her,  crying  into  her  deep-black  bordered  handkerchief,  yet 
secretly  proud  of  this  great  assembly,  these  mourning 
badges,  the  music,  the  stately  procession.  But  Titania, 
who  had  had  several  fits  of  passionate,  convulsive  weeping, 
was  dry-eyed  now. 

Had  Dick  gone  to  heaven,  and  would  he  see  her  own 
dear  mamma  ?  Oh,  why  had  she  not  sent  some  message  ? 
And  she  wondered  now  why  no  one  ever  prayed  to  God 
any  more.  She  did  not  even  say  a  prayer  night  and 
morning.  Why  was  everything  so  different  from  the  days 
of  her  mother  and  Maggie?  Why  had  Maggie  wanted  to 
be  her  mamma?  Would  anybody  love  her  as  Dick  had 
loved  her  ?  Would  she  go  on  the  stage  any  more  ?  What 
was  this  awful  weight  about  her  heart,  and  why  could  she 
not  cry  when  her  eyes  ached  so  ? 

The  lid  was  closed,  and  Dick  borne  away  to  Greenwood. 
She  sat  in  the  close  coach  beside  Kate,  with  two  gentlemen 
opposite.  It  was  a  cold  day.  No  flowers,  no  waving  green 
trees,  nothing  but  a  dull,  gray  shadow,  in  which  these 
people  looked  like  phantoms.  She  was  glad  to  get  back  to 
the  warm  hotel  parlor  with  Kate. 

And  poor  Dick  left  lying  alone  there!     Would  he  be 


134  LOST   IN   A    GREAT   CITY. 

cold,  or  tired,  or  hungry,  or  lonesome?  What  happened 
when  people  died?  If  they  could  only  come  back  by 
and  by. 

She  sat  there  quietly  thinking  her  own  strange  puzzling 
thoughts.  A  gentleman  who  had  been  very  kind  to  Kate 
had  come  in  to  supper  with  her,  Mr.  Gilbert  Chippenham, 
a  young  man  of  artistic  tastes,  who  wrote  poems,  and  had 
produced  a  play  or  two,  who  acted  occasionally  when  he 
could  get  an  engagement  that  suited,  and  for  the  rest,  lived 
by  his  wits.  He  was  of  average  height,  but  rather  slender, 
with  dark  curling  locks  and  a  thin  pale  face,  intellectual  in 
his  estimation.  The  world  had  given  him  scant  apprecia- 
tion, he  thought,  but  he  managed  to  dress  well,  and  often 
fared  sumptuously  at  other  people's  expense.  He  had 
dangled  in  the  train  of  several  rising  actresses,  and  made 
love  to  a  score  of  others,  but  nothing  just  suitable  in  the 
matrimonial  line  had  come  within  his  reach. 

"  If  you  want  a  friend,  or  a  favor,  Madame  Barretti,  don't 
hesitate  to  call  upon  me,"  he  said,  with  his  most  gracious 
air,  as  he  rose  to  depart. 

She  always  felt  elated  to  be  called  Madame  Barretti. 

"  I  am  sure  I  don't  know  what  to  do,  and  it  will  be  very 
good  to  have  a  friend  to  call  on.  Dick  always  managed 
everything  himself.  He  insisted  that  I  had  no  head  for 
business  ;  but  I  don't  see  then  why  a  man  can't  instruct  his 
wife.  I  shall  stay  in  the  city  for  some  time  to  come,  and 
I  am  sure  I  shall  be  glad  to  see  you  as  often  as  you  have 
time  to  drop  in.  I  shall  miss  Dick  dreadfully.  We  were 
always  on  the  go,  and  I  like  changing  about." 

"  Good-night,  little  Queen  Titania.  I  suppose  it  will  be 
some  time  before  we  see  you  on  the  boards  again  ?  Haven't 
you  a  kiss  for  me  ?  " 

The  child  pushed  away  his  face,  and  her  eyes  flashed, 
though  she  said  nothing. 

"  Good-night,  my  dear  madame,"  and  he  bowed  low  over 


THIS   SIDE   QUEENIE,  THAT   SIDE   DICK.  135 

the  lady's  hand.  "Remember  your  promise.  I  shall  be 
glad  to  serve  you." 

So  Signer  Barretti,  being  in  the  grave,  soon  passed  out 
of  mind.  His  place  was  filled  by  another,  though  a 
few  of  his  feats  remained  unattainable  to  his  would-be  suc- 
cessors. But  the  world  had  to  be  amused,  and  could  not 
stop  to  moan  over  it's  dead  favorite. 

Gilbert  Chippenham  speculated  somewhat  on  the  va- 
cancy. Professionally  he  had  no  desire  of  filling  it,  but 
was  there  not  another  way  in  which  he  might  succeed, 
quite  to  his  expectations  ?  What  with  the  property  and 
a  life  insurance,  Madame  Barretti  was  not  such  a  poor 
prize.  The  fact  of  her  being  five  or  six  years  his  senior 
was  nothing  to  him,  and  she  would,  no  doubt,  be  delighted 
with  the  attentions  of  a  good-looking  young  man.  In  his 
heart  he  knew  she  was  weak  and  easily  flattered,  and  he 
might  .is  well  have  the  money  as  any  other  man.  So  he 
became  quite  assiduous  in  his  attentions,  and  she  confided 
her  business  troubles  to  his  keeping.  There  was  a  will 
made  some  ten  years  before,  which  gave  everything  to  her. 

Madame  Barretti  was  so  delighted  with  her  liberty,  that 
after  a  month  or  so  she  scarcely  regretted  Dick.  She  went 
to  a  stylish,  but  rather  second-rate,  hotel,  and  had  Dick's 
handsome  team  stabled  in  the  city.  As  for  living  on  that 
dreary  farm,  with  a  man  and  a  maid,  she  should  never 
think  of  that  again. 

"  I  should  offer  it  for  sale,"  advised  Mr.  Chippenham. 
He  would  never  care  to  live  there  either. 

Madame  Barretti  drove  through  Broadway,  Fifth  Ave- 
nue, and  frequented  the  Park,  with  her  pretty  adopted 
daughter  by  her  side,  who  had  come  to  be  considered 
Dick's  daughter,  but  not  hers.  It  was  her  great  amusement, 
for  in  her  heavy  sables  she  could  not  seek  congenial 
society. 

Deep  mourning  makes  a  fright  of  nearly  every  one,"  she 
declared  to  Titania,  "When  spring  fairly  opens  I  shall 


136  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

take  to  lilac.  I  wonder  if  it  would  do  for  me  to  wear  my 
diamonds  ?  They  are  not  exactly  color,  like  rubies,  you 
know,  and  I  hate  all  this  black  jewelry." 

Titania  stared  a  little.  Kate  was  used  to  asking  advice 
on  subjects  quite  beyond  the  child's  comprehension.  So 
much  black  was  not  cheerful,  most  assuredly.  It  would  be 
pleasant  to  go  to  the  theatre  again,  to  be  asked  out  to 
dainty  suppers,  and  have  the  stir  of  active  life. 

Titania  enjoyed  it ;  how  could  she  help  when  it  had  been 
daily  food.  Yet  she  indulged  in  moments  of  passionate 
weeping  for  Dick,  when  Kate  was  out  of  sight.  Though 
too  young  to  discriminate,  she  felt,  and  vaguely  understood, 
the  shallowness  of  Kate's  nature.  Already  Titania  had 
grown  prematurely  wise  in  some  respects. 

"  I  may  as  well  tell  you,"  began  Kate,  as  they  were  sun- 
ning themselves  in  the  Park  one  brilliant  morning,  late  in 
May,  "  that  I  am  engaged  ; "  and  a  conscious  smirk  over 
spread  her  face.  "  Mr.  Chippenham  asked  me  last  night." 

M  Oh  ! "  Titania  cried,  and  it  was  like  a  sound  of  pain. 
Could  Dick  be  so  soon  forgotten  ? 

Kate  looked  surprised. 

u  You  don't  seem  to  like  him  very  much,  and  yet  it  is 
really  ungrateful  in  you,  Titania.  I  am  sure  he  does  a 
great  many  nice  things  for  you ;  and  he  adores  me.  I  sup- 
pose I  did  love  Dick  when  I  first  married  him,  but  he  was 
always  very  masterful,  and  thought  I  did  not  know 
anything.  Now  dear  Gilbert  is  so  different.  He  always 
consults  me,  and  calls  me  an  angel  instead  of  a  fool.  And 
he  wants  to  be  married  very  soon.  He  doesn't  consider  it 
worth  while  to  wait  a  whole  year." 

"  And  you  are  going  to  put  him  in  Dick's  place  —  give 
him  all  Dick's  money,  love  him,  and  kiss  him ; "  —  and 
Titania's  eyes  dilated  with  something  like  horror,  as  well 
as  disgust. 

"  How  you  do  talk !  You  forget  that  I  love  him,"  said 
Kate,  much  aggrieved. 


THIS   SIDE   QUEENIE,  THAT   SIDE   DICK.  137 

"  It  is  very  strange,"  faltered  Titania,  turning  away  to 
hide  her  tears. 

"  Why,  no,  it  isn't  strange  at  all.  You  are  a  little  girl, 
and  don't  know  anything  about  love.  But  you  are  so 
pretty  that  you  will  soon  have  lovers  of  your  own.  I  wish 
you  could  grow  tall  faster.  And  about  the  money,  —  Gil- 
bert isn't  going  to  take  it,  under  any  circumstances.  It  is 
to  be  all  settled  on  myself,  and  I  am  to  give  him  power  of 
something,  —  I've  forgotten  what,  —  and  he  is  to  invest  it, 
and  pay  me  the  interest.  And  so  we  are  going  right  on  to 
sell  everything.  I  think  we  shall  go  to  Paris  for  our  bridal 
tour." 

Titania  said  no  more,  but  Kate  rambled  on  in  her  foolish 
fashion,  supremely  happy  and  content.  The  child  won- 
dered why  she  should  have  disliked  Mr.  Chippenham  so, 
from  the  very  first,  and  she  experienced  an  undefined  mis- 
giving for  Kate.  Of  herself  she  scarcely  thought. 

Kate  had  received  one  very  advantageous  offer  for  her, 
a  fortnight  after  Dick's  death ;  but,  to  her  credit,  she  had 
refused  it.  Dick  had  loved  the  child  so  well  that  she 
seemed  a  sacred  trust  to  her.  But  to  Mr.  Chippenham 
nothing  had  any  sacredness.  He  viewed  Titania  as  a  part 
of  the  property  the  dead  man  had  left. 

Altogether  he  was  quite  elated  with  his  engagement. 
Kate  was  somewhat  older  than  himself,  and  lacked  the  re- 
finement of  taste  that  he  admired  in  a  woman  ;  but  she 
was  easily  flattered  and  easily  led,  and  there  was  the 
money.  He  was  quite  surprised  when  he  came  to  learn 
the  amount.  Kate  trusted  him  implicitly.  One  of  the 
executors  of  the  will  was  dead,  the  other  declined  serving, 
so  the  whole  business  fell  to  Kate  and  her  lover.  There 
would  be  no  check  to  the  ignorance  of  the  one,  or  the  sel- 
fish cupidity  of  the  other. 

And  Gilbert  Chippenham  determined  to  become  a  great 
man.  Hitherto  he  had  been  repressed,  and  not  appreciated. 
A  winter  in  Paris,  with  certain  stage  associations,  would 


138  LOST  IN  A   GREAT  CITY. 

give  him  position.  Managers  would  not  dare  snub  him 
after  that,  and  with  a  bound  he  expected  to  leap  into  the 
arena  of  fame. 

The  farm  and  its  belongings  were  disposed  of,  and  cer- 
tain stocks  turned  into  ready  money.  Kate  and  Titania 
went  to  Saratoga,  but  it  was  early  in  the  season,  and  Mad- 
ame Barretti  did  not  seem  to  take  among  these  people. 

u  They  are  a  stupid,  stuck-up  set,"  she  declared  to  Ti- 
tania. "  I  am  not  sure  but  I  should  like  Long  Branch  bet- 
ter. If  Gilbert  could  only  be  with  us  all  the  time." 

Then  dear  Gilbert  began  to  importune  for  a  speedy  mar- 
riage. Why  should  they  wait  and  wait !  She  had  no  rel- 
atives to  consult. 

"  Of  course  we  must  take  Titania  to  Paris  with  us,"  said 
Kate. 

They  were  walking  up  and  down  the  beach  in  the  moon- 
light, Kate  in  a  very  romantic  mood. 

"  Well  —  "  returned  Gilbert,  slowly,  "  I  wanted  a  little 
talk  about  the  child.  I  think  she  would  be  very  much  in 
the  way.  I  desire  no  one  but  you,  my  dear  Kate.  I  should 
really  be  jealous  to  see  you  devote  so  much  of  your  pre- 
cious time  and  love  upon  her  when  you  are  my  wife.  And 
then  it  would  be  lonesome  for  her  without  any  companion- 
ship. Altogether  it  is  not  practicable,  as  you  must  see." 

"  But  what  could  I  do  with  her  ?  And  Dick  charged 
me  especially  to  look  after  her." 

"  I  think  he  meant  to  have  you  go  on  with  her  training. 
He  prepared  her  for  the  stage,  and  she  is  capable  of  taking 
a  position  that  will  lead  to  fame  and  fortune.  If  you  keep 
her  back  two  or  three  years,  you  see  she  will  lose  what  she 
has  already  acquired.  In  justice  to  her,  you  should  make 
some  engagement  for  her." 

"  But  if  she  should  not  like  it  ?  "  questioned  Kate,  simply. 

"  Oh,  if  you  are  going  to  give  in  to  a  child's  whims,  you 
will  make  yourself  trouble  enough.  She  may  not  want  to 
go  on  the  stage  just  now,  after  such  a  lazy,  luxurious  life 


THIS   SIDE   QUEENIE,  THAT   SIDE   DICK.  139 

as  you  two  have  been  indulging  in ;  but  a  few  years  hence 
she  will  turn  and  blame  you  for  not  giving  her  the  oppor- 
tunity. You  ought  to  put  her  in  the  way  of  making  a 
fortune  for  herself." 

"  If  I  only  knew  what  Dick  would  like  for  her ! " 

"  Why,  he  would  have  kept  her  on  the  stage,  of  course. 
Then,  my  dear,  it  will  be  quite  impossible  for  us  to  take 
her  to  Paris.  It  would  be  a  great  expense,  and  hamper  us 
in  every  direction.  Indeed,  I  cannot  consent  to  it.  We 
had  better  stay  at  home." 

Kate  had  set  her  heart  on  Paris. 

"  If  we  couldn't  take  her  —  "  she  began,  hesitatingly. 

"Well,  we  can't.  You  had  better  let  me  make  some 
engagement  for  her.  There's  Thomas,  now,  —  he  has  an 
A  1.  troupe.  I've  no  doubt  he  would  be  glad  to  get  her, 
before  she  has  forgotten  all  her  marvelous  feats  and  careful 
training." 

"  But  I  wonder  if  she  would  be  well  taken  care  of? 
Dick  used  to  look  after  her  so.  I  was  almost  jealous  my- 
self, sometimes." 

"  Of  course  she  will  be  well  taken  care  of.  It  would  be 
to  any  one's  interest,  you  know.  She  is  a  valuable  acquisi- 
tion to  the  stage ;  remember  what  crowded  houses  she 
drew !  Indeed,  she  ought  to  go  back  without  any  further 
loss  of  time.  Suppose  I  see  Thomas,  and  learn  what  he  is 
willing  to  do." 

"  I  must  think  it  over  first.  And  I  ought  to  see  what 
Titania  would  like." 

"  Nonsense  ! "  exclaimed  the  lover,  sharply.  "  If  you 
care  so  much  more  for  her  than  you  do  for  me  — "  and 
dropping  the  arm  he  held,  he  turned  away. 

"Oh,  Gilbert!  Dear  Gilbert,  don't  be  vexed.  I  don't 
know  but  you  are  right ;  only  it  is  sudden,  and  I  had  not 
thought,  and  poor  Dick  wanted  me  to  be  good  to  her.  I 
do  believe  he  meant  to  leave  her  something,  too.  And  I 
love  her  —  " 


140  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

«  Better  than  you  love  me !  "  with  a  sort  of  fierce,  stage 
moodiness.  "  Well  —  choose  between  - 

«Oh,  Gilbert,  how  could   I   give  you  up?    You   are 

cruel ! " 

"  My  darling ! "  Then  he  clasped  her  in  his  arms,  and 
kissed  her ;  murmuring  extravagant  protestations,  and  poor, 
foolish  Kate,  who  thought  this  the  height  of  delightful  ro- 
mance, consented,  yet  with  a  secret  misgiving. 

"Perhaps  it  would  be  just  as  well  not  to  say  anything 
to  Titania  until  I've  seen  Thomas,"  Chippenham  remarked, 
carelessly,  the  next  morning. 

u  Very  well ; "  and  Kate,  like  all  weak  women,  was  glad 
to  put  off  the  evil  day. 

But  Chippenham  was  quite  sure  of  his  man  before  he 
broached  the  subject  to  Kate.  And  now  he  proceeded  to 
draw  up  a  year's  engagement,  though  Thomas  would  fain 
have  had  it  three.  There  was  much  haggling  about  the 
price,  but  when  Chippenham  had  any  advantage  on  his 
side  he  was  sharp  enough  to  use  it. 

So  the  wedding-day  was  appointed,  the  passage  engaged, 
and  Kate  was  engrossed  with  her  bride-clothes.  She  lav- 
ished her  money  foolishly  on  the  merest  trifles,  but  she 
enjoyed  it  with  the  zest  of  sixteen.  Thomas  came,  and 
she  signed  the  agreement,  though  her  hand  trembled  with 
a  strange,  shadowy  fear  of  Dick.  And  the  little  bit  of 
conscience  she  had  left  protested  against  this  delicate,  sen- 
sitive creature  being  made  an  article  of  merchandise,  while 
she  lavished  Dick's  savings  on  a  new  lover. 

**  You  must  tell  her ; w  said  Kate,  weakly. 

Gilbert  Chippenham  had  no  tender  qualms  on  the  sub- 
ject. In  a  most  business-like  way  he  announced  the  im- 
pending change  to  Titania. 

She  took  it  quietly ;  astounded  at  the  thought  of  separa- 
tion from  the  only  real  friend  she  had  in  the  world.  And 
yet  —  if  she  could  not  go  to  Paris  with  Kate  — 

**  You  see  he  is  a  very  foolish   and  exacting  lover,"  ex- 


141 

plained  Kate,  afterward.  "  He  wants  me  all  to  himself, 
a  while,  at  least.  If  husbands  would  only  stay  as  fond  of 
one!  "  and  she  sighed.  "But  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  next 
year  he  sent  for  you.  You  see  we  are  to  travel  a  good 
deal,  and  it's  a  sight  of  bother  and  expense  to  take  a  third 
person.  And  you'll  cheer  up,  my  dear,  for  after  all  there 
is  so  much  real  pleasure  in  getting  bouquets  and  things, 
and  being  encored.  I  wish  I  was  on  the  stage  myself." 

Titania  vouchsafed  no  reply.  Somehow  she  felt  wounded, 
deserted,  and  it  made  little  difference  to  her,  just  then, 
what  became  of  her. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Chippenham  had  a  wedding-breakfast  at  a 
hotel,  and  Gilbert  shone  in  supreme  self-complacency.  Ti- 
tania was  tastefully  dressed  in  most  fairy-like  attire.  Kate 
cried  over  her  with  a  fond,  sentimental  good-by. 

Mr.  Thomas  was  in  waiting. 

"  You'll  be  very  good  to  her  !  "  sobbed  the  bride,  while 
the  bridegroom  whispered — "Don't  make  such  a  dunce 
of  yourself,  Kate  !  "  but  he  had  almost  said  fool. 

"Of  course,  of  course!"  was  the  quick  response.  "Where 
is  Jane  Hewlett  ?  Oh,  Jane,  you'll  take  this  young  one 
home  with  you.  Her  trunk  is  packed,  is'nt  it  ?  The  coach 
is  waiting,  I  believe.  Don't  give  yourself  a  moment's  un- 
easiness, Mrs.  Chippenham.  There,  say  good-by,  and  be 
done  with  it.  Partings  are  always  sad  things." 

Kate  pressed  the  child  to  her  heart,  in  a  tender,  regret- 
ful embrace,  then  her  husband  drew  her  away.  Some  of 
the  guests  were  going  to  the  steamer  with  them.  Titania 
wiped  the  tears  from  her  eyes,  and  followed  Jane  Hewlett. 

The  first  tidings  that  met  Roger  Lasselle,  in  his  search, 
were,  that  Madame  Barretti  had  married  again,  and  gone 
abroad,  taking  the  child  with  her,  it  was  believed.  Whether 
the  child  was  Signer  Barretti's  own,  or  not,  no  one  could 
say  positively. 


142  LOST   IN   A   GREAT  CITY. 


CHAPTER  XIIL 

HER   SHAKE   OF   THE   SPOILS. 

TITANIA  and  her  belongings  were  conveyed  to  the  third 
floor  of  a  large  tenement-house,  where  the  apartments  were 
arranged  somewhat  on  the  flat  system.  Miss  Hewlett  had 
a  parlor  with  a  dark  bedroom  opening  out  of  it,  and  a 
small  room  at  the  side,  which,  as  it  contained  water  and 
a  drain,  she  called  the  kitchen.  The  furniture  was  very 
shabby,  and  the  place  was  full  of  dust  and  litter,  with  a 
close,  unwholesome  smell.  The  windows  opened  into  a  lit- 
tle court,  and  opposite  was  the  rear  of  another  row  of 
houses,  with  clothes-lines  stretched  across. 

"  Take  off  your  hat,  my  dear,  and  be  comfortable,  do. 
I  don't  live  in  quite  such  style  as  Madame  Barretti  did," 
and  Jane  gave  a  sort  of  scoffing  grin.  "  What  an  unmiti- 
gated fool  that  woman  was !  To  marry  such  a  fellow  as 
Chip,  when  she  might  have  lived  at  her  ease !  I'd  had 
the  handling  of  my  money  myself,  I  tell  you,  and  if  I'd 
fooled  it  away,  that  would  have  been  my  own  business. 
He's  a  humbug,  though  he  sets  up  for  a  genius.  Why,  my 
dear,  he  was  once  dead  in  love  with  me !  I  wouldn't  have 
wiped  my  old  shoes  on  him.  But  I  suppose  he's  made  her 
believe  he's  the  very  green  cheese  the  moon  is  made  of." 

"Will  he  take  her  money?"  asked  Titania,  with  a  face 
of  genuine  distress. 

"  Take  it  ?  Yes,  and  spend  every  cent  of  it.  He's  been 
spending  it  for  these  last  two  months,  I  know.  She's  paid 
for  her  own  wedding,  ha  !  ha !  breakfast,  coaches,  parson's 
fee,  and  all,  I'll  be  bound.  But  the  champagne  was  good. 


HER  SHARE  OF  THE  SPOILS.          143 

Let  Chip  alone  for  cutting  a  swell!  She  wasn't  your 
mother?" 

"  No.  But  she  was  very  good  to  me,"  said  the  child,  her 
eyes  tilling  with  tears. 

"  Was  Barretti  your  father?" 

"  No ; "  and  Queen  Titania  sighed  softly. 

w  Are  you  quite  sure  ?  A  wise  child,  etc.  — w  and  Jane 
Hewlett  gave  a  knowing  leer. 

"  Yes,  I  am  quite  sure.n 

Titania  colored,  without  understanding  why. 

"Folks  dead,  Is'pose?" 

"  Yes ; "  and  Titania  sighed  again.  Of  what  avail  would 
it  be  to  tell  over  her  half-forgotten  story!  No  one  ever 
believed  it. 

"  Well,  relations  are  not  of  much  account.  I  ran  away 
from  mine.  My  mother  was  an  old  blue  Presbyterian,  of  the 
awful  sort,  and  my  father  —  well,  he  used  to  lick  me  about 
every  night.  So,  when  I  was  fourteen  I  was  tired  of  that 
kind  of  fun,  and  ran  off  with  a  circus  troupe.  My !  I've 
seen  lots  of  fun  since.  How  old  are  you  ?  " 

"Ten,"  said  Titania. 

"  Do  you  like  the  stage  ?  " 

« I  don't  know,"  —  doubtfully. 

**  Do  you  act  or  sing  any  ?  n 

"  I  never  have  ; "  was  the  quiet  reply. 

"Just  trapeze  and  rope-dancing.  I  saw  you  one  time 
while  Barretti  was  alive.  Well,  you'll  make  a  fortune  out 
of  that,  if  you  have  good  luck;  but  more  of 'em  get  lamed 
or  maimed  for  life.  It's  dangerous  business.  You  might 
do  in  ballets  though.  Come,  don't  you  want  a  cup  of  tea  ? 
I'm  going  to  boil  a  little  water,  and  wet  down  some." 

Titania  glanced  out  of  the  window,  while  Jane  lighted 
a  kerosene  stove  and  filled  the  small  kettle.  Then  she 
placed  some  cups  and  saucers  on  the  table. 

«  Shall  you  like  to  go  to  Montreal  ?  " 

tt  Where  ?  "  was  the  sudden,  astonished  query. 


144  LOST   IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 

u  To  Montreal  I  We're  to  take  a  tour  through  the  Can- 
adas,  you  know,  starring  it.  There's  Dolly  St.  John,  who 
sings,  and  dances  break-downs ;  and  Valentine,  who  does 
clog-dancing  to  perfection.  And  Thomas  promised  that  I 
should  be  leading  lady;  but  he's  taking  that  Julie  Pearl 
along,  with  her  yellow  hair  and  handsome  feet,  drat  the 
girl !  Let  him  set  her  over  me  if  he  dares !  I  think  I 
make  up  as  good  for  the  stage  as  she.  Come,  here's  your 
tea." 

"  I  do  not  want  it,  please,"  said  the  soft  voice,  implor- 
ingly, as  if  asking  a  favor. 

"You  better  have  some.  There's  nothing  like  tea  to 
settle  your  nerves,  and  comfort  you  when  your  best  friends 
desert  you.  Did  Barretti  leave  you  any  money  ?  " 

"  No.     That  is  —  I  am  quite  sure  he  did  not." 

"  Well,  it's  a  shame  that  Chip  should  have  the  spending 
of  it,  now  I  do  say.  But  you  can  make  money  of  your 
own.  I  wish  you'd  appoint  me  guardeen  ;  come  now,  do." 

"Guard—  what?"  asked  Titania. 

"  Guardeen !  ha,  ha  1  Some  one  to  take  your  money  and 
spend  it.  I'd  buy  you  lots  of  nice  things.  Oh,  say,  have 
you  any  jewelry?  Was  the  Madame  stingy?  She  had 
diamonds,  didn't  she  ?  Have  you  any  ?  n 

u  No,"  Titania  replied  gravely. 

"Honor  bright?" 

"  I  should  not  tell  a  lie,  if  I  had  them." 

"And  Td  like  to  borrow  them!  ha,  ha  I  Julie  Pearl  is  a 
blaze  of  light  in  hers.  Isn't  that  poetical,  now  ?  Well,  if 
you  won't  have  tea  is  there  anything  else  you'll  have  ?" 

"  Thank  you,  no." 

Titania  studied  her  hostess  wonderingly.  Miss  Hewlett 
was  twenty,  though  she  looked  older  than  that  by  daylight. 
Tall  and  slender,  with  great  elasticity,  and  grace  of  figure, 
and  a  peculiar  face,  whose  chief  charm  was  large,  languish- 
ing, blue  eyes.  She  did  a  deal  of  stage  execution  with 
them.  A  careless,  improvident  Bohemian,  with  a  good  deal 


HER  SHARE  OP  THE  SPOILS.  145 

of  spirit  and  fire  in  acting,  a  quick  and  retentive  memory, 
and  keen  sense  of  fun.  She  had  succeeded  fairly  on  the 
burlesque  stage. 

"Now,  I'm  going  out,"  she  began  presently;  "I  have 
some  calls  to  make,  and  you  won't  mind  staying  alone 
awhile,  for  I  can't  take  you.  There  are  some  illustrated 
papers.  I  wouldn't  unpack  my  things,  for  we're  going  to 
start  soon,  unless  you're  afraid  of  their  crushing.  And  if 
you  get  hungry  you'll  find  something  here  in  the  cup- 
board." 

Whereupon  Miss  Hewlett  re-arrayed  herself,  put  on  a 
fresh  coat  of  beautifying  powder,  tied  a  dotted  veil  over 
her  face,  and  was  startlingly  brilliant. 

As  she  stepped  out  in  the  hall  she  turned  the  key  softly 
in  the  door,  took  it  out,  and  put  it  in  her  pocket. 

Left  to  herself,  Titania  had  a  quiet  cry  by  the  window. 
The  day  was  warm,  and  there  was  very  little  air  in  thia 
confined  space  between  the  two  houses,  or  rather  rows  of 
houses,  that  reared  their  tall  heads.  Somehow  it  made  her 
think  of  Mother  Mell,  and  that  half-forgotten  episode, 
though  it  was  a  little  cleaner  and  better.  How  dreamy  all 
her  life  appeared  until  Dick  Bridger  entered  it.  Then 
everything  stood  out  with  startling  distinctness. 

"Oh,  dear  Dick,"  she  cried,  "come  back  to  me!  How 
can  I  live  without  you ! 

But  there  was  no  answer  except  the  hum  of  crying, 
scolding  voices,  that  seemed  to  fill  the  air  with  unrest. 
The  sense  of  solitude  frightened  her.  What  would  happen 
next  ?  How  could  she  ever  perform  without  Dick  ?  And 
where  was  Canada? 

How  long  and  dreary  the  afternoon  seemed.  She  began 
to  wish  Miss  Hewlett  would  return ;  but  twilight  fell,  and 
then  a  deeper  darkness.  She  huddled  in  the  corner  of  the 
rusty  sofa,  frightened,  lonely,  crying  by  turns ;  and  there 
Jane  Hewlett  found  her  at  eleven,  fast  asleep ;  but  she  was 
10 


146  LOST  IN  A  GREAT   CITY. 

too  weary  with  her  own  good  time  to  do  more  than  tnmbla 
into  bed  by  herself. 

The  next  day  Mr.  Thomas  paid  her  a  visit.  Titania 
shrank  from  him.  A  small  man,  with  sharp,  keen  eyes, 
close-cropped  chestnut  hair,  and  a  light  yellowish-red 
beard. 

"JP11  take  her  to  the  old  woman,  I  guess,"  said  he. 
"  She's  out  of  practice,  no  doubt,  and  will  need  a  little 
training.  Gad!  she  ought  to  make  any  one's  fortune. 
You've  not  performed  since  Barretti's  death?" 

"  No,"  was  her  timid  answer. 

"Then  you'll  have  to  take  a  course.  And  there's  such 
a  little  time,  too.  We  start  sharp  next  Tuesday.  You'll 
not  forget,  Hewlett  ?  " 

"Not  I  I  My  summer  tour;"  and  the  girl  gave  her 
short,  unmeaning  laugh. 

tt  That's  her  trunk,  eh  ?  Well,  you've  a  pretty  good 
start  in  life,  though  you'll  never  get  anything  else  out  of  the 
Madame.  Chip '11  make  ducks  and  drakes  of  the  money 
before  you  can  say  Jack  Hobison.  Get  on  your  things, 
miss,  and  come  along." 

Titania  felt  that  she  hated  this  man.  If  she  only  dared 
refuse,  and  defy  him  I  But  she  was  too  small  and  too 
powerless  to  do  anything  but  obey ;  and  her  rigid  training 
made  that  easier  now. 

"  Why  didn't  you  take  her  home  with  you  yesterday  ?  " 
asked  Jane,  in  surprise. 

"Because  I  had  something  else  on  hand,  and  the  old 
women  took  a  holiday.  Any  more  questions  ?  " 

"  Til  save  the  rest,"  was  the  rejoinder. 

Titania  followed  her  guide.  A  short  walk,  and  a  car 
ride,  brought  them  to  their  destination,  a  somewhat  dilapi- 
dated-looking house,  not  far  from  the  East  River.  Mrs. 
Thomas,  a  faded  and  untidy  looking  woman,  received  them. 
There  was  a  parlor,  and  the  adjoining  room  contained  a 
bed,  as  well  as  an  inmate,  who  came  peering  through  the 


HER  SHARE  OF  THE  SPOILS.          147 

folding-doors,  and  uttered  a  growl,  —  a  sort  of  misshapen 
thing,  that  made  Titania  shiver. 

"  My,  what  a  picter  1 "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Thomas.  "  And 
all  that  mop  of  hair  her  own,  too  ?  But  I  should  be  afraid 
'twould  catch,  or  something  as  she  was  jiggerin'  round.  An' 
that's  the  Queen  Titania  they  made  such  a  row  over  last 
year?  I  hope  you'll  make  lots  of  money  out  of  her,  Owen. 
Ranny,  come  see  the  pretty  little  girl." 

"I'll  kill  the  pretty  little  girll"  shouted  the  amiable 
Ranny,  whose  proper  name  was  Randall. 

tt  You  let  her  alone,  if  you  know  when  you're  well  ofiV 
said  his  father. 

u  Hush,  Ranny  1 "  counselled  his  mother. 

tt  I  won't  hush,  there  I " 

"  You  young  villain,  Fll  strangle  you,"  —  and  his  father 
started  for  the  door. 

**Oh,  don't,  Owen,  Owen,  remember!  He's  trying,  I 
know;  but  remember!"  and  she  stood  in  her  husband's 
way. 

tt  Hang  the  brat !  If  you  don't  teach  him  to  keep  a  civil 
tongue  in  his  head  I  will." 

Ranny  betook  himself  of£  eliding  and  thumping  over  the 
floor. 

"Don't  be  frightened,"  said  Mrs.  Thomas,  reassuringly. 
"  Ranny  won't  hurt  you.  But  he's  a  great  sufferer,  a  great 
sufferer." 

Mrs.  Thomas  had  a  way  of  repeating  the  last  clause  of 
a  sentence  twice,  and  occasionally  thrice,  as  if  to  give  it 
more  power. 

Titania's  eyes  dilated,  and  she  shrank  to  the  corner  of 
the  sofa. 

"I  want  to  take  her  down  town  this  afternoon  for  a 
practice,"  announced  Mr.  Thomas.  "Dorf't  let  Randall 
frighten  her.  I  must  go  out  now,  and  see  about  getting 
ready.  We  start  Tuesday  morning.  Her  trunk  will  come 
presently.  Have  you  any  costumes  ?  n 


148  LOST  IN   A  GREAT  CITY. 

"  I  don't  know,"  was  the  hesitating  answer.  This  life 
seemed  strangely  new  to  her. 

"Just  look  them  over,  Mary,  and  see.  I  hope  there  isn't 
much  to  be  bought,  for  funds  are  running  low.  If  I 
shouldn't  make  a  success  of  this  tour  I  shall  be  dead  broke. 
And  they  all  want  a  fortune  before  they'll  stir.  Chip  made 
me  pay  a  month's  advance  for  her,"  nodding  to  Titania. 
u  I'd  kept  her  at  Jane  Hewlett's,  but  there  would  have  been 
board  to  pay." 

Then  Thomas  gave  a  glance  in  the  next  room. 

u  Don't  let  me  hear  any  bad  account  of  you,  or  I'll  break 
every  bone  in  your  body,"  said  he  to  the  inmate. 

With  that  he  disappeared.  Mrs.  Thomas  took  Titania's 
hat,  and  hung  it  over  the  chimney  of  a  bracket  lamp.  Then 
she  asked  her  if  she  was  fond  of  the  stage,  and  if  Madame 
Barretti  was  really  her  mother,  and  why  she  did  not  go 
abroad  with  them. 

"  I  must  go  down-stairs,  and  see  to  my  dinner,"  she 
announced  presently.  "  Will  you  stay  here  and  look  out 
of  the  window,  or  would  you  rather  go  with  me  ?  n 

u  I  will  go  with  you,"  returned  Titania. 

"  Ranny,  I'm  going  down  stairs,"  said  his  mother. 

The  child  gave  a  sort  of  summersault,  and  bounced  out 
into  the  room.  Titania  uttered  a  scream,  and  buried  her 
face  in  Mrs.  Thomas'  arms. 

"He  won't  hurt  you,  will  he,  Ranny?  There,  come 
down-stairs,  and  you  shall  have  some  cake.  Be  a  good 
boy,  Ranny." 

The  child  was  now  about  twelve,  but  it  would  have  been 
quite  impossible  to  guess  at  his  age.  His  face  was  old, 
wrinkled,  and  drawn ;  his  head  was  set  in  his  shoulders, 
without  any  neck,  his  body  was  large,  his  legs  very  short, 
but  his  arms  were  long,  and  his  fingers  like  a  skeleton's. 
An  accident  in  early  childhood,  resulting  from  his  father's 
drunken  carelessness,  with  the  addition  of  epilepsy,  had 
made  him  what  he  was.  His  face  was  filled  with  an  ugly, 


HER  SHARE   OP  THE  SPOILS.  14$ 

wolfish  light,  and  his  almost  black  hair,  cropped  close, 
added  to  the  general  diablerie. 

"  I  think  I  will  stay  here,"  said  Titania,  with  a  gasp,  her 
eyes  dilating. 

"  I'll  stay  here  too,"  said  Ranny. 

"You  had  better  come  with  me;"  and  Mrs.  Thomas 
placed  her  hand  over  Titania's  shoulder.  But  this  roused 
all  the  jealous  fury  of  the  child,  who  made  one  dive  at  Ti- 
tania's ankles,  but  caught  hia  mother's  foot  instead,  out- 
stretched like  a  flash. 

"Randall,  you  must  behave.  I  shall  surely  let  your  father 
whip  you  if  you  touch  this  little  girl.  I  didn't  want  him 
to  bring  you  here,"  she  said,  fretfully.  "  Randall  seems  to 
hate  all  children,  and  I  have  my  hands  full,  I'm  sure.  I 
wish  we  were  both  dead.  There,  run  on,  and  let  me 
manage  him."  Then  she  stooped,  and  whispered  in  her 
ear,  "Go  in  the  back  room  and  hide,  and  I'll  take  him 
down-stairs,  but  make  believe  you  are  going.'*  Then  aloud : 
"  You'll  see  the  stairs  at  the  back  part  of  the  hall ;  go  right 
on  to  the  front  basement." 

Titania  took  a  few  steps,  then  darted  into  the  adjoining 
room,  while  Randall  lumbered  along  after  his  mother. 
When  he  found  out  that  his  prey  had  eluded  him,  he  gave 
a  terrific  howl,  but  Mrs.  Thomas  had  locked  the  door,  and 
now  used  her  best  endeavors  to  pacify  him  with  luxuries, 
of  which  he  was  ravenously  fond. 

Titania  crept  back  to  the  window,  and  curled  herself  up 
on  the  sofa,  afraid  to  let  even  her  feet  touch  the  floor. 
There  she  sat  and  shivered,  too  much  frightened  even  to 
cry.  Oh,  why  had  not  Kate  taken  her!  or  why  was  she 
not  dead  with  Dick  ! 

When  the  dinner  was  ready  Mrs.  Thomas  came  for  her. 
Randall  was  at  the  end  of  the  table,  in  a  high  arm-chair- 
and  though  he  glared  vengefully  at  her,  he  was  too  much 
occupied  with  eating  to  pay  much  attention  to  her.  As 
for  Titania,  the  first  morsel  seemed  to  choke  her. 


150  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

"  Do  eat,"  began  Mrs.  Thomas,  persuasively,  piling  soma 
luxuries  on  her  plate.  "  Why,  you'll  starve,  and  not  be  fit 
for  anything." 

"You  gim  me  that!"  shouted  Randall,  as  his  mother 
helped  Nora  to  a  choice  bit.  "  If  you  don't  I'll  send  this 
fork  straight  at  her,"  and  he  poised  it  with  a  very  direct 
aim. 

"  Oh,  let  him  have  it.  I  don't  want  anything,  indeed  I 
don't ; "  and  the  child  sprang  up  in,  deadly  terror.  "  Let 
me  go  up-stairs  again." 

"  You  shan't  go  I  I  want  you  here !  I  hate  you,  and  Fll 
send  this  smack  in  your  face ! "  he  screamed. 

Titania  opened  the  door,  and  the  whizzing  mug,  of  plated 
silver,  struck  against  it,  thereby  saving  her.  But  she  fled 
in  dismay. 

"I'll  bring  you  up  some  dinner,  presently,"  said  Mrs. 
Thomas.  "  He  always  goes  to  sleep  in  the  afternoon. 
Don't  be  frightened.  I  wouldn't  let  him  hurt  you,  though 
I  don't  see  what  Owen  brought  you  here  for,  when  he 
knows, —  Poor  Ranny,  he  isn't  to  blame.  It's  a  judgment 
on  Owen,  but  he  never  can  see  it.  An'  he  was  such  a 
sweet,  pretty  baby.  There,  dear,  don't  cry." 

She  went  back  to  the  screaming  Randall,  while  the 
affrighted  Titania  shrank  into  her  sofa  corner,  trembling 
like  an  aspen.  Presently  it  became  still  down-stairs,  and 
Mrs.  Thomas  made  her  appearance  with  a  tray,  on  which 
there  were  some  delicacies.  Titania  glanced  furtively  at 
the  door. 

"  He's  asleep,  now,  my  dear,"  was  the  reassuring  com- 
ment. «'If  it  wasn't  for  his  afternoon  nap,  Fm  sure  I 
wouldn't  know  what  to  do.  It  gives  me  a  chance  to  finish 
my  work,  and  then  I  fix  up  and  take  him  out  in  his  wagon, 
and  do  my  errands.  But  he  isn't  always  so  troublesome," 
with  a  sigh  of  relief.  "  There,  dear,  do  eat  a  bit.  You'll 
get  used  to  him  presently,  only  it's  best  to  keep  out  of  his 
way  while  you're  strange,  poor  lamb !  You  see  he  isn't 


HER  SHARE  OF  THE  SPOILS.  151 

exactly  right,  and  when  he  sees  other  children  it  makes 
him  angry  like,  because  he  can't  run  around  and  play." 

"  Was  he  hurt  ?  "  asked  Titania,  sympathetically. 

"  Yes,  dear,"  and  the  mother  sighed  again.  "  It's  a  long 
story,  all  of  it.  You  see  —  you'll  find  this  out  for  yourself  be- 
fore long  —  Owen  drinks  now  and  then.  If  it  wasn't  for  that 
I'd  be  a  happier  woman,  though  I  do  say  Owen  has  never 
struck  me,  and  he's  provided  well  at  the  worst  of  times. 
But  when  Ranny  was  about  three  he  wasn't  very  well,  and 
kinder  fretty,  as  children  often  are.  Owen  came  home  late 
one  night,  an'  had  been  drinking,  an'  wanted  to  tumble  into 
bed  with  all  his  clothes  on,  an'  I  wouldn't  let  him.  Mebbe 
t'would  have  been  better ; "  and  Mrs  Thomas  wiped  her 
eyes  with  the  corner  of  her  apron.  **  The  baby  woke  an* 
cried,  an'  he  struck  it.  I  interfered.  I  couldn't  lay  there 
an'  see  my  own  flesh  an'  blood  abused  for  nothing.  An* 
then  we  had  a  reg'lar  quarrel,  and  he  made  a  spring  at  the 
baby,  and  threw  it  across  the  room.  It  cried  and  sobbed 
till  it  was  all  beat  out,  and  had  a  great  bump  on  its  forehead. 
The  next  day  it  had  an  awful  fit,  and  was  droopy  for  ever 
so  long  afterwards,  when  its  back  took  to  growing  out,  and 
Owen  he  knows  he  hurt  it  that  night.  And  though  it's 
a  poor  'flicted  thing,  an'  ugly  to  look  at,  it's  dear  to  me. 
Owen's  pretty  good  to  him  most  of  the  time.  Then  he's 
away  a  great  deal,  an'  I  get  along.  But,  goodness !  You 
ain't  eat  a  bit ! " 

"  I  can't,'  cried  Titania,  sick  at  heart.  She  was  thinking 
of  the  horrible  fate  of  having  this  man  for  her  master. 

"  Don't  say  a  word  to  Owen.  He  wouldn't  like  me  to 
tell.  But  it  isn't  the  poor  lamb's  fault  that  he  ain't  like 
other  children.  Let  me  give  you  just  a  mouthful  of  wine, 
it  will  help  you  up  a  Int." 

At  this  juncture  Mr.  Thomas  entered  in  high,  good 
spirits,  having  only  partaken  of  the  glass  that  cheers,  and 
raised  some  money  also.  The  man  had  an  ambition  to  at- 
tain to  the  position  of  a  theatrical  manager  and  lessea 


152  LOST  IN   A   GREAT  CITY. 

He  had  made  two  fortunate  hits  in  his  life,  and  lost  th« 
good  results  of  both  through  the  demon  of  intemperance. 
During  the  past  winter  he  had  been  quite  prosperous  again, 
and  had  resolved  now  upon  starring  it  with  a  Variety 
Troupe,  having  made  some  promising  arrangements,  and 
secured  attractive,  if  not  first-class  talent.  He  hoped  to 
make  a  star  of  Queen  Titania,  and  had  overbid  the  manager 
of  another  troupe  for  her. 

He  was  pleased  to  find  the  house  quiet,  and  his  wife 
thus  careful  of  his  protege's  welfare.  Then  he  bade  her 
put  on  her  hat,  and  come  with  him,  as  she  was  to  have  a 
practice  at  one  of  the  theatres. 

Titania  shrank  from  the  task  with  painful  intensity. 
When  they  reached  the  place,  she  found  there  had  been 
a  rehearsal  of  a  play,  and  a  few  loungers  were  still  hanging 
about.  The  dim  lights  gave  the  stage  a  weird,  dingy  ap- 
pearance, and  the  vast  auditorium  was  as  sepulchral  as  the 
catacombs.  Various  articles  were  scattered  about.  The 
walls  of  canvas,  and  iron,  and  timber,  with  their  attendant 
machinery,  made  grim  goblins  and  fantastic  scenes,  while 
bits  of  glitter,  here  and  there,  looked  drearily  common- 
place and  tawdry.  Coming  from  the  warmth  and  sun- 
shine it  appalled  the  unaccustomed  eye,  and  was  almost 
like  entering  an  inferno. 

*  Hillo  I  Here's  Thomas ! "  cried  a  voice  that  was  warm 
and  human.  **  We  were  just  going  out,  old  fellow.  We've 
had  our  festival  of  high  art.  Whose  stray  kid  is  that,  with 
her  clouds  of  gorgeous  golden  hair,  if  I  may  be  bold 
enough  to  ask." 

"  There's  little  you'd  stop  at  for  lack  of  boldness,"  was 
the  curt  rejoinder.  "  Be  off  with  the  lot  of  you.  This 
stage  is  mine  for  the  next  hour." 

"  How  proud  we  are !  How  fond  to  show  our  clothes, 
and  call  them  rich  and  new,"  recited  the  first  speaker,  in  a 
funny,  breathless  tone,  with  no  pauses  or  emphasis.  **  Poor 


HER  SHARE  OP  THE  SPOILS.  153 

sheep  and  silk-worm  I  Thomas  will  have  nothing  to  do 
with  you  until  you  are  satin  and  broadcloth." 

"Get  out  with  your  chaffing;"  was  the  impatient  an. 
ewer. 

A  young  woman  darted  forward  at  that  moment,  clasp- 
ing Titania  to  her  bosom,  and  kissing  her  rapturously. 

"Oh,  you  angel  I"  she  cried.  "I  was  sure,  after  two 
good  looks  at  you,  though  you  have  forgotten  me,  I  dare 
say.  It's  Barretti's  little  Queen.  You're  going  to  take 
her  to  Canada,  Thomas  ?  ** 

"  Well,  it's  my  business,  I  s'pose  I " 

"  Oh,  you  needn't  be  snappy  1  It's  dangerous  in  dog-days. 
Lu,  come  and  look  at  this  child.  She's  the  one  I've  been 
raving  about.  You  never  saw  anything  so  handsome  in 
your  life.  Kiss  me,  little  darling." 

"  Then  she  wasn't  Barretti's  own  child  ?  What  a  fool 
that  woman  was  to  marry  Chippenham ! '* 

"  I  shall  always  think  she  was  Barretti's  child,**  said  the 
first  speaker,  pointedly. 

"  Come,  stop  your  everlasting  gabbling,  and  clear  out," 
said  Thomas,  gruffly.  •*  Time  is  precious,  and  the  child  is 
all  out  of  training.  We  are  to  start  on  Tuesday." 

"  Oh,  do  let  us  stay ! "  pleaded  a  chorus  of  voices. 

"Not  one  of  you.  Come,  I  haven't  interfered  with  you 
any,  and  I'm  not  going  to  devour  the  child.  You'll  see 
her  again.  She  can't  stand  this  rabble." 

"  Rabble,  indeed  ! "  with  a  scornful  laugh.  "  You'll  be 
glad  of  the  rabble  some  night.** 

**  Will  you  go ! "  and  now  an  angry  light  shot  up  in  the 
eyes  of  Owen  Thomas.  "  The  child  shan't  so  much  as 
take  off  her  hat  while  you  stay." 

They  saw  he  was  in  earnest,  and,  after  a  few  imperti- 
nences, took  their  way  out  through  the  side-scenes.  He 
followed  to  make  sure  they  were  really  gone,  and  then 
arranged  the  stage  for  her  well  known  rope-dancing. 


154  LOST  IN   A   GREAT  CITY. 

"  Oh,  I  cannot  I "  she  cried  with  sudden  vehemence.  "  I 
cannot  do  it  ever  again  !  I  am  afraid ! " 

"  We'll  see,  I  guess.  I  haven't  hired  you  for  nothing ; " 
was  the  reply. 


THE  CLANK  OP  THE  CHAIN.          155 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE   CLANK   OF  THE  CHAIN. 

TITANIA  stood  shivering  and  trembling.  This  man  had 
no  personal  magnetism  like  Dick  Bridge r.  He  could  only 
inspire  her  with  repulsion  and  fear.  She  was  weary  and 
nervous.  The  parting  with  Kate,  the  long,  lonely  after- 
noon in  a  strange  place,  the  change  of  that  morning,  her 
fright  with  the  terrible  Ranny,  and  the  dread  of  her  new 
master,  seemed  to  deprive  her  alike  of  nerve  and  physical 
strength. 

"  You've  not  been  on  the  stage  since  Barretti's  death," 
he  questioned,  abruptly. 

"No.  And  I  can't,  without  Dick, —  my  dear  Dick!" 
and  Titania  gave  way  to  a  violent  fit  of  weeping. 

"  See  here ! "  —  and  Thomas  confronted  her  fiercely  — 
"  I've  hired  you  and  I'm  going  to  pay  a  big  price,  too, 
more'n  you're  worth,  may  be.  Chip's  a  blasted  old  screw, 
when  he  gets  a  chance,  like  all  beggars !  Just  wait  until 
the  tables  are  turned  —  it  won't  do  for  him  to  ask  favors 
of  me ; "  and  Thomas  shook  his  fist  at  his  imaginary  ad- 
versary. "  There,  I  don't  expect  much  of  you  to-day,  but  you 
see  there's  precious  little  time.  It  '11  all  come  back  to  you. 
Don't  be  afraid !  Why,  I've  seen  you  make  people  hold 
their  breath,  at  some  of  your  feats.  Come ! " 

Would  he  beat  her  if  she  refused  ? 

"  There  isn't  any  music.  I  didn't  think  how  inspiring  it 
was;  but  I  don't  expect  you  to  do  much  dancing.  It's  the 
posturing  mostly  that  I  want  to  get  at.  Balance  yourself." 

She  attempted  it  without  a  word,  and  once  there,  the 
fear  of  accident  gave  her  strength ;  but  it  was  the  daring 


156  LOST   IN   A   GREAT  CITY. 

of  one  in  ghastly  peril.  More  than  once  she  almost  toppled 
over.  The  wonderful  grace  remained,  but  the  brilliant 
courage  quite  failed  her. 

"You  must  do  better  than  that!"  Thomas  said  sharply. 
"I  think  the  lights,  and  music,  and  applause  have  some- 
thing to  do  with  it.  Now  I  want  you  to  try  a  new  feat." 

He  brought  out  a  small  platform,  about  six  feet  high, 
and  placed  it  in  the  middle  of  the  stage.  On  this  he  sat  a 
sort  of  pedestal,  nearly  as  high  again.  The  top  was  flat, 
with  a  diameter  two  feet,  or  so. 

"Run  up  this  ladder,"  and  he  placed  one  against  the 
base. 

She  obeyed,  but  paused  on  the  platform. 

"Go  on — just  steady  yourself  with  your  hands." 

tt  Not  up  to  the  top ! "  she  exclaimed,  aghast. 

tt  Yes,  to  the  top.  Don't  stop  to  think  about  it.  You've 
done  more  dangerous  thinsrs." 

<J  O 

"Oh,  I  can't!'*  and  she  shrank  back  in  dismay. 

"  Get  up,  and  no  fooling,  if  you  don't  want  your  neck 
broke!"  and  the  man  uttered  a  fierce  oath.  Then,  seeing 
her  terrified  eyes  and  ashen  face,  he  gave  a  forced  laugh. 

"  Come,  my  girl,"  and  there  was  a  more  persuasive  ac- 
cent in  his  tone,  "I  don't  mean  to  be  rough,  nor  frighten 
you,  but  the  thing  has  got  to  be  done !  And  you  won't 
mind  it  after  a  time  or  two.  Here,  let  me  steady  you  a 
bit.  Now  if  you  feel  dizzy-like,  or  fancy  yourself  going, 
make  a  spring  to  my  arms.  I'll  catch  you,  never  fear." 

She  stepped  to  the  top,  and  he  handed  her  the  balancing- 
pole. 

"  You  must  leam  to  do  without  that.  There !  It  isn't 
BO  bad,  after  all.  I  have  some  stunning  new  feats  in  my 
mind.  The  public  must  have  a  variety,  you  see." 

She  drew  a  slow  breath,  as  if  a  feather's  weight  might 
unsettle  her.  Perched  way  up  there,  with  the  dreary 
twilight-waste  on  every  hand,  and  the  dim,  ghost-haunted 


THE  CLANK  OF  THE  CHAIN.  157 

corners  ready  to  send  out  some  lurking  phantom,  she  could 
hardly  resist  a  scream  of  terror. 

"Now  I'll  lower  a  ring  for  you  to  catch.  Drop  your 
pole  and  hold  fast  of  that." 

Titania  clutched  it  like  a  drowning  man. 

"  That  will  steady  you,  and  give  you  courage.  Now  I 
want  you  to  pose  on  one  foot,  —  a  little  more,  —  there. 
Now  try  the  other.  Let  me  see ;  if  I  whistle  I  think  you 
can  dance.  I'll  have  some  music  to-morrow.  Now  let's 
begin." 

It  was  a  rather  spiritless  performance,  Titania  felt. 
Thomas  had  the  good  sense  to  make  no  discouraging  com- 
ment. The  little  face  looked  frightfully  white. 

"There,  you  may  come  down  now.  It  wasn't  so  bad 
after  all,  but  you  '11  have  to  do  it  a  sight  better  than  that. 
Gad !  just  think  of  an  audience  watching  such  a  mite  of  a 
thing  way  up  there,  and  not  knowing  whether  she  '11  come 
down  alive  or  not.  It's  like  the  harrowin'  part  of  a  novel, 
when  the  hero's  in  some  awful  fix.  People  like  that  kind 
of  suspense." 

He  had  her  safely  in  his  arms,  but  the  heart  beat  fear- 
fully against  his  shoulder. 

"  Sit  down  and  rest.  Here's  a  sup  of  wine  for  you ; 
why,  you  ain't  much  in  the  way  of  daring,  after  all.  I  hope 
I  shan't  lose  money  on  you,  and  I  must  make  a  lot  if  you 
pay.  I've  a  chap  engaged  that  will  beat  Barretti  all  to 
nothing." 

Titania  shuddered  as  she  listened  to  the  man's  loud,  im- 
portant voice,  whose  tones  were  exaggerated  by  the  space 
and  ghostly  quiet. 

"  There,  you  feel  better  now,  don't  you  ?  The  wine  put 
a  little  color  in  your  face.  Now  I  want  you  to  try  it 
again." 

She  had  hoped  the  cruel  test  was  over,  for  this  time. 
One  glance  she  gave  at  the  dizzy  height,  and  then  she 
almost  shrieked, 


158  LOST   IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 

"  Oh,  don't  make  me !  I  am  tired,  sick !  I  should 
throw  myself  off,  and  be  killed  I  Only  wait  until  to-morrow. 
I  will  try  then,  indeed  I  will.  Let  me  go  home,  and  go  to 
bed!" 

Her  beseeching  voice  might  have  moved  the  mythical 
heart  of  a  stone,  and  her  strained,  despairing  face  did  touch 
the  man. 

"  Well,"  he  returned,  ungraciously,  "  but  it  won't  do  for 
you  to  cut  up  many  such  shines.  I'll  let  you  off  to-day, 
you're  a  bit  strange,  I  know.  Get  your  hat,  and  come. 
Women  always  are  the  devil  for  contrariness,  it's  born  in 
'em.  But  don't  you  try  this  trick  over  too  often,  or  you'll 
see  who  is  master  I  " 

She  followed  him  through  the  tortuous  piles  of  stage 
trumpery,  and  they  emerged  to  daylight.  Thomas  kept  a 
sharp  eye  on  her,  but  he  need  not  have  feared.  She  was 
too  spiritless  to  escape. 

The  streets  were  full  of  children  at  play,  with  now  and 
then  a  brawling  mother  rushing  out  to  meet  a  little  one,  or 
a  shrill  voice  calling  from  a  window.  Was  everybody 
cruel  to  children  ?  It  seemed  so  in  her  small  experience. 
But  Dick  had  loved  her. 

Indeed,  her  life  with  Dick  Bridger  was  clean  and  whole- 
some. Beyond  the  inseparable  hardships  of  the  training 
he  had  been  indulgent.  He  had  cared  for  her  physical 
comforts  with  something  beyond  the  mere  reference  to 
bodily  well-being,  —  tenderness, — for  the  man  was  not  hard 
or  cruel  from  any  delight  in  torture.  When  a  point  must 
be  attained  he  took  the  shortest  and  most  decisive  way, 
even  if  it  were  sharp. 

Though  the  months  with  Kate  had  been  delightfully 
luxurious,  still  she  had  missed  the  strong,  sustaining 
affection.  But  to  be  plunged  into  this  dreary  desert ! 

"  If  I  might  go  to  my  own  room  ?  "  she  said,  timidly,  to 
Mrs.  Thomas,  as  they  entered  the  house. 

"Why,   child,   wait   up   and   have    some    supper,    do. 


1HE    CLANK   OF   THE   CHAIN.  159 

Ranny's  real  good-natured  now,  and  wants  to  see  the 
pretty  girl.  I  don't  believe  but  what  you  could  make 
quite  friends  with  him.  Come  and  see." 

"Oh  no!  no!"  Titania  cried  convulsively.  "I  am  so 
tired !  I  do  not  want  any  supper.  Please  let  me  go  to 
bed." 

"Let  the  child  do  as  she  likes!"  said  Owen  Thomas, 
gruffly. 

"  But  it's  so  early."  Then  she  caught  sight  of  the  tired 
little  face.  "  Well,"  she  continued,  "  maybe  it  will  be  best. 
There's  nothing  like  a  good  rest,  only  it  looks  so  queer  to 
see  a  child  willing  to  go  to  bed  before  dark.  Come  along, 
then.  Your  things  are  all  up- stairs." 

She  followed  her  hostess  to  the  third  floor,  an  old- 
fashioned  attic,  with  dormer  windows,  the  house  being 
shared  with  another  family.  The  Thomases  had  but  one 
room  up  here.  It  was  clean,  but  close  and  warm,  and  the 
bed  looked  inviting. 

"  I  expect  you  feel  a  bit  strange,  poor  thing,"  and  there 
was  a  motherly  kindness  in  the  voice.  "  Still,  'twould  a 
been  different  if  the  woman  that  married  —  what  was  her 
name  ?  —  had  been  any  real  kin.  Blood's  thicker  'n  water,  I 
always  say,  and  you  can't  feel  for  anybody  quite  as  you 
can  for  your  own.  I  often  think  if  I  was  dead  there  'd  be 
no  one  to  care  for  Ranny,  for  fathers  never  seem  to  have 
the  same  feeling,"  —  and  the  illogical  woman  paused. 
"  Shan't  I  help  you  take  off  your  clothes  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Titania,  **  And  if  you  wouldn't  mind  going 
down-stairs." 

"  O  dear,  no.  But  you're  a  queer  little  thing.  Suppose 
I  bring  you  up  some  tea  ?  " 

"  No !  I  don't  want  anything." 

"  You're  dead  tired,  that's  it.  I  hope  you'll  rest  con* 
fortably. .  Good-by  till  morning." 

After  she  had  gone  a  few  steps  she  came  back. 


160  LOST   IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 

"  Maybe  you'll  leel  safer  to  lock  your  door  on  the  in 
side,"  she  added,  and  changed  the  key. 

Titania  locked  it  immediately.  Then  she  threw  hersell 
on  the  bed,  and  gave  way  to  a  flood  of  bitter,  passionate 
tears.  So  young,  and  so  miserable !  Cast  out  of  home 
and  love  —  a  thing  for  public  amusement  merely.  How 
hideous  it  was!  There  were  dim  and  undefined  strivings 
of  womanhood  within,  chaotic  fancies,  and  remembrances 
that  eluded  her  on  every  hand.  Was  life  always  to  be 
thus? 

She  hardly  realized  until  now  what  a  blow  Kate's  mar- 
riage had  been  to  her,  and  she  hated  Mr.  Chippenham 
with  an  unreasoning,  impotent,  but  enduring  hate.  What 
would  he  do  after  he  had  taken  all  Kate's  money  ?  Oh, 
if  Kate  could  come  back  and  care  for  her  while  she  went 
on  the  stage,  and  if  she  could  earn  money  enough  for  them 
both.  And  what  right  had  Mr.  Chippenham  to  sell  her 
to  this  man  ;  for  to  her  childish  understanding  she  appeared 
as  truly  sold  as  the  pretty  dogs  that  changed  owners  now 
and  then.  First  it  had  been  Mother  Mell  who  wanted  to 
get  rid  of  her,  and  then  that  vile,  wolfish-looking  man  in 
the  hideous  den  —  and  Dick  —  dear  Dick  —  oh,  why  did 
God  take  him  away  1  She  did  not  hold  against  him  the 
blows  and  severity,  she  remembered  only  the  love,  the 
care,  the  tenderness,  and  cried  as  if  her  heart  were  break- 
ing, —  until  she  fell  asleep,  still  in  her  dress,  overcome  by 
sheer  exhaustion. 

She  felt  rested  the  next  morning,  and  the  elasticity 
of  childhood  triumphed  over  its  transient  despair.  Mrs. 
Thomas  was  kind,  and  Ranny  not  quite  so  terrible.  The 
practice,  too,  was  under  more  auspicious  circumstances, 
and  she  pleased  her  new  master  better. 

But  it  was  a  trying  change  from  her  recent  life  of  lux- 
ury and  leisure.  Perhaps  it  was  well  that  the  blow  had 
come  so  suddenly,  for  to  have  brooded  over  it  would  have 
invested  it  with  terrors  too  bitter  to  be  borne. 


THE  CLANK  OF  THE  CHAIN.          161 

Escape  might  have  presented  itself  as  feasible  if  she  had 
known  more  of  the  world,  or  less.  But  her  past  experi- 
ences had  not  been  of  the  reassuring  kind,  and  there  was 
no  one  to  whom  she  could  turn.  You  cannot  well  con- 
ceive of  a  more  friendless  little  being  than  this  enchanting 
Queen  Titania,  who,  if  she  had  only  known  the  magical 
word  lying  in  her  possession,  like  a  rare  gem  picked  from 
the  highway,  upon  which  no  sign  or  seal  of  value  has  yet 
been  set,  would  open  the  door  of  friendship  and  give  her 
the  delights  of  home,  perchance  lead  to  the  restoration  of 
that  past,  dim  now  even  in  dreams. 

Oh,  how  the  cruel  old  world  mocks  us,  after  all  J 

Yet  Titania  found  friends,  such  as  they  were,  among  the 
party  destined  to  be  her  companions  for  some  time  to 
come.  Her  sadness  was  beguiled  by  the  excitement,  and 
though  her  strength  was  severely  taxed  by  the  rehearsals, 
still  she  delighted  to  watch  the  others,  and  her  child- 
ish heart  was  gladdened  by  the  kisses  and  compliments 
showered  upon  her.  Jane  Hewlett  she  met  again,  and 
made  Dolly  St.  John's  aquaintance,  who  was  one  of  the 
eager,  rapturous,  fun-loving  sort.  Mademoiselle  Julie 
Pearl  condescended  to  meet  with  them  a  time  or  two. 
A  vain,  supercilious  beauty,  who  some  way  had  gained  a 
hold  on  the  public,  and  of  whom  wonderful  things  were 
predicted. 

"  She'll  spoil  the  whole  thing,  you  see  if  she  don't ; w 
said  Jane  Hewlett,  in  an  aside.  "  Thomas  made  a  big  mis- 
take when  he  engaged  her ;  but  I'm  not  going  to  take  any 
of  her  airs  or  impudence,  I'll  let  him  know  that !  I  can 
get  an  engagement  almost  anywhere,  and  I'll  keep  money 
enough  by  me  to  come  home  if  I  don't  like  starring  in  the 
provinces." 

Indeed,  it  was  a  pity  that  Mr.  Thomas  had  not  used 
more  judgment  in  the  selection  of  his  materials,  but  'the 
Pearl,'  as  she  was  termed,  possessed  a  flavor  of  newness 
that  had  been  most  captivating  through  the  winter. 
11 


162  LOST  IN  A  GREAT   CITT. 

Titania,  meanwhile,  became  quite  attached  to  Mrs, 
Thomas.  Ranny's  moods  were  peculiarly  variable  and 
vicious,  but  Titania  managed  to  get  through,  with  no  more 
Berious  incident  than  having  a  handful  of  hair  torn  out  by 
the  roots.  Several  times,  indeed,  he  was  quite  amiable, 
but  she  stood  in  deadly  fear  of  his  treachery,  and  was  glad 
to  say  adieu. 

"  I  wonder  how  I  shall  get  my  letter  ?  "  she  asked  wist- 
fully of  Mr.  Thomas.  "Mrs.  Chippenham  promised  to 
write — w 

"  Oh,  that  will  come  in  due  time,  never  you  fear.  They 
won't  lose  track  of  you  so  easy ; "  and  Mr.  Thomas  gave  a 
sharply  confident  nod. 

The  party  took  the  night  boat  to  Albany.  Titania  was 
delegated  chiefly  to  Jane  Hewlett's  care,  but  Jane  was  too 
intent  upon  sundry  flirtations  to  take  much  interest  in 
another  person.  But  Dolly  St.  John  and  Titania  drifted 
into  an  odd  friendship.  The  one,  who  had  been  robbed 
of  childhood,  pure  and  simple,  and  made  an  anomaly  in 
human  nature,  the  other,  to  whom  life  would  be  forever 
childhood  and  a  jest,  who,  when  fun  and  dancing  were 
over  would  go  through  the  only  tragedy  possible  for  her — 
a  dose  of  prussic  acid. 

She  was  but  twenty,  yet  she  had  spent  twelve  years 
upon  the  stage,  and  remembered  nothing  before  that, 
save  nodding  in  the  green-room  while  she  waited  for  her 
mother. 

The  trip  was  far  from  dulL  Titania  had  not  outgrown 
her  love  for  simple  scenery.  She  sat  and  dreamed  often, 
while  the  others  laughed  and  jested,  and  there  floated 
through  her  mind  a  dim  vision  of  sweetness  and  beauty, 
but  always  ending  with  a  chill  sombreness,  the  remem- 
brance of  her  mother's  death. 

They  reached  at  last  the  quaint  Canadian  town,  the 
scene  of  their  first  engagement,  and  were  crowded  into 
a  rather  ding}  second-class  hotel.  The  care  that  Dick 


THE  CLANK  OP  THE  CHAIN.          163 

Bridget  was  wont  to  bestow  upon  his  little  Queen  was  a 
thing  of  the  past.  The  others  might  treat  her  to  fruit 
and  bon-bons,  or  sips  of  wine,  but  the  regularity,  the 
wholesome  diet,  the  soothing  calm  after  a  nervous  strain, 
was  not  to  be  her  strength  and  refreshment  for  the  morrow. 

It  was  late  when  they  came  in,  and  past  midnight  when 
they  went  to  bed.  The  strange  surroundings  kept  Titania 
awake  for  a  long  while,  and  the  stir  early  in  the  morning 
shortened  her  sleep.  Then  there  was  a  hurried  rehearsal 
in  the  morning,  lasting  until  two,  the  flurry  and  bewilder- 
ment of  a  strange  stage,  with  its  stuffy  little  green-room, 
its  narrow  exit  and  entrances,  and  the  commonplace  drear- 
iness  of  dim  daylight. 

Titania  went  through  her  part  with  fear  and  trembling, 
but  succeeded  in  pleasing.  There  was  a  lunch,  with  a 
plentiful  flow  of  ale,  the  women  eating  with  their  fingers, 
and  spicing  the  repast  with  slang  and  mild  profanity,  since 
they  were  good  natured. 

"You'll  see  that  Titania's  costume  is  all  right,"  said 
Thomas  to  Jane  Hewlett. 

"  Oh,  let  me  1 "  screamed  Dolly,  with  her  mouth  full  of 
mutton  pie.  w  I'm  a  stunner  at  such  things.  I'll  make  her 
gorgeous." 

"  I  don't  care  who  does  it.  Her  limbs  are  to  be  as  free 
as  possible,  you  know.  Nothing  to  interfere  with  her 
poses." 

"  Let  me  alone  for  that ; n  and  Dolly  winked  cunningly 
out  of  one  eye.  "  I  don't  believe  in  —  what  is  it  —  gilding 
gold,  or  painting  the  lily,  unless  it's  a  poor  faded  lily.  And 
Titania's  an  angel,  a  sylph,  a  fairy  ! " 

"  Dolly  St.  John,  you  are  a  fool ! "  interposed  the  Pearl, 
sharply. 

"  This  is  one  of  the  cases  where  ignorance  is  bliss,"  was 
the  retort. 

Mademoiselle  Pearl  stared  haughtily,  not  quite  compre- 
hending who  had  the  best,  or  who  was  considered  worsted 


164  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

Dolly  was  in  her  element  that  afternoon,  arranging 
costumes.  Signer  Visconti,  the  trapezist,  did  not  come  to 
hand  until  evening,  when  the  party  were  again  assembled 
in  the  green-room.  He  was  a  slight,  wiry,  brigandish 
looking  fellow,  a  stranger  to  the  rest.  The  satisfaction  of 
Mr.  Thomas  was  at  its  height.  Nothing  had  gone  wrong. 

At  an  early  hour  the  Alhambra  began  to  fill.  Such 
wonderful  attractions  as  the  bills  had  announced  were  not 
to  be  slighted.  The  manager  peered  out  now  and  then  as 
the  orchestra  began  tuning,  and  rushed  back  rubbing  his 
hands  in  high  good  humor. 

"A  splendid  house!  A  splendid  house!  Now  you 
must  all  do  your  best.  We  '11  take  these  Canadians  by 
storm,  and  show  them  how  we  do  things  in  the  States. 
Where's  that  call-boy  ?  Here,  you  villain,  stop  your  fool- 
ing. The  overture  has  commenced.  Ready  now." 

Titania  sat  wrapped  in  a  waterproof,  in  the  lowest  box, 
to  see  the  first  play,  an  especial  favor  gained  for  her  by  the 
good-natured  Dolly.  It  was  a  sparkling  little  thing,  with 
a  jealous  husband  who  somehow,  in  the  end,  got  caught  in 
the  trap  he  laid  for  his  angelic  wife. 

Dolly  was  the  maid,  who  with  her  lover  kept  the 
audience  in  a  roar  of  laughter,  and  was  applauded  in  her 
song.  Julie  Pearl,  as  the  wife,  was  gorgeously  costumed, 
and  sentimental.  Jane  Hewlett,  the  mutual  friend,  did  her 
part  well. 

Then  Valentini  and  his  clog-dancing  brought  down  the 
house,  and  Dolly  St.  John  set  everybody  wild  with    her 
character  songs.     Then  the  curtain  fell,  and  the  audienc 
hunted  down  their  programmes.     "  The    wonderful   fair) 
queen,  Titania,  in  her  astonishing  pedestal  dance." 

What  was  it  ?    There  was  a  stir  of  expectation. 

Slowly  the  curtain  wound  its  creaking  way.  The 
platform  was  visible  —  the  pedestal,  and  there,  perched 
way  atop,  a  human  mite,  a  fair,  slender  thing,  with  a  cloud 
of  golden  hair,  and  scanty  rose-hued  drapery.  Was  it  a 


THE  CLANK  OP  THE  CHAIN.          165 

mortal  being?  Indeed,  she  looked  more  like  a  graceful 
statuette,  poised  by  a  sculptor's  hand.  The  large,  slow, 
moving  eyes,  with  their  dusky  light,  the  small  month  with 
its  dainty  curves,  the  transparent  skin.  Dolly  St.  John 
had  insisted  upon  rouging  her  cheeks,  and  they  bloomed 
like  a  pale-tinted  rose-bud.  Her  limbs,  indeed  her  whole 
lithe,  petite  figure  was  so  exquisitely  lovely  that  the  audience 
stared  in  silence,  and  wondered  whether  they  had  not  been 
cheated  by  some  marvellous  figure,  held  in  place  by  stage 
machinery. 


166  LOST  IN  A   GREAT  CITY. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

A  BONO   SLAVE. 

THE  horns  blew  out  a  beguiling  melody,  and  the  violins 
came  in  with  their  inspiriting  strains.  Slowly  Titania 
moved,  and  the  audience  drew  a  breath  of  satisfaction. 
Thomas  was  watching  her  with  a  strange  impatience. 

"  If  she  would  only  show  a  little  spirit,"  he  muttered. 

Spirit !  What,  indeed,  were  steadiness  of  head,  and  care 
of  foot,  when  a  misstep,  a  wavering  of  balance,  might  dash 
her  to  the  floor,  maimed  and  bleeding.  She  tried  to  con- 
centrate her  mind  on  the  music,  to  think  of  nothing  beyond 
the  performance,  but  they  were  long  moments  of  deadly 
agony.  It  might  have  been  a  whole  day  or  half  a  life  time. 
The  sea  of  faces  were  in  a  whirl  before  her  when  the  wel- 
come rope  was  lowered  to  steady  her  as  the  motion  ceased. 

Down  came  the  curtain.  Titania  clutched  her  strong 
ally,  and  for  an  instant  all  was  darkness  before  her. 

There  was  a  round  of  thunderous  applause,  prolonged, 
then  bursting  out  afresh.  Then  a  bold  call  that  found  a 
dozen  echoes. 

"Titania!  Titania  1" 

She  came  down  from  the  platform  quite  exhausted. 
Dolly  St.  John  caught  her  in  her  arms. 

Still  the  applause  continued,  and  the  cries  became  more 
urgent. 

"  You'll  have  to  go  before  the  curtain  and  acknowledge 
it,"  said  Thomas. 

"  Oh,  don't  send  me ! "  the  child  cried  in  terror. 

"  Come,  no  airs." 

"It's    nothing,"    interrupted    Dolly.      "Just    go    and 


A  BOND   SLAVE.  167 

courtesy,  and  then  run  back  to  my  arms,  you  darling.  Ii 
I  were  a  rich  woman  I  should  adopt  you.  There,  sweet, 
Thomas  will  be  raving." 

She  dragged  her  strained  and  weary  limbs,  for  the  tense 
mental  drain  had  been  fearful. 

A  shower  of  bouquets  fell  at  her  feet,  and  the  applause 
was  renewed. 

Signer  Visconti  was  next  in  order.  He  had  declined 
performing  with  the  child,  somewhat  to  Thomas's  chagrin, 
at  first,  but  the  manager  was  rather  glad,  now,  since  Titania 
had  made  such  a  hit.  Visconti  was,  after  all,  no  marvellous 
athlete,  and  elicited  such  very  moderate  commendation 
that  it  roused  his  anger.  And  worst  of  all,  the  cries  and 
calls  began  again : 

"Titania!  Titania!" 

"  She  must  go  on  again,"  said  Thomas. 

But  Titania  lay  on  a  heap  of  stage  drapery,  trembling 
and  weeping,  her  nerves  completely  unstrung. 

"  Come  ! "  he  cried  roughly,  "  what  foolishness  is  this  ?  " 

"  She  can't  do  it,  Thomas,"  interposed  Dolly.  "  You'd 
be  a  fool  to  kill  the  hen  that  lays  a  golden  egg.  The  au- 
dience will  be  all  the  more  crazy  to  see  her  to-morrow 
night.  Make  some  explanation." 

"  Hold  your  clack ! "  exclaimed  Thomas,  furious  at  being 
thus  dictated  to,  though  common  sense  told  him  Dolly 
was  right. 

"  Look  at  her !  Put  her  up  on  that  pedestal  if  you  dare ; " 
and  Dolly's  eyes  blazed. 

Thomas  went  on  the  stage  and  bowed.  The  noise  sub- 
sided somewhat. 

"Ladies  and  gentlemen,  while  lam  honored  by  these 
proofs  of  your  satisfaction  and  enjoyment,  I  regret  to  state 
that  it  will  be  quite  impossible  for  Queen  Titania  to  appear 
again  to-night.  The  pedestal  dance  is  very  exhausting, 
and  it  would  not  be  wisdom  for  a  tired  child  to  attempt  it." 

With  that  he  bowed  and  retired.     There  was  a  little 


168  LOST   IN   A    GREAT    CITT. 

murmur  of  dissatisfaction,  but  Dolly  St.  John  sang  a  song, 
and  the  broad,  amusing  farce  that  followed  restored  every 
one  to  good  humor." 

"  A  week  of  such  houses  will  be  a  grand  beginning ; " 
and  Thomas  rubbed  his  hands  briskly. 

But  a  mutiny  had  already  commenced.  Julie  Pearl  was 
jealous  of  Dolly  St.  John,  and  Visconti  glowered  at  the 
little  Queen. 

The  week  was  a  success,  though  at  its  close  Visconti 
quarrelled  with  the  manager  and  left  the  troupe.  To 
Titania  it  had  been  very  hard,  for  the  irregular  living  told 
on  the  child's  strength.  No  careful  Dick  to  note  racing 
pulses  and  heavy  eyes.  Dolly  was  very  good  to  her,  but 
she  was  a  wild,  flighty  little  thing.  Jane  Hewlett  and 
Julia  Pearl  quarrelled  incessantly. 

In  the  new  engagement,  Titania  was  to  appear  twice, 
later  in  the  evening,  in  some  remarkable  feats.  It  was  fre- 
quently past  midnight  before  she  was  in  bed.  She  learned 
to  enjoy  the  jolly  little  suppers,  at  which  Dolly  was  always 
the  presiding  genius. 

And  so  passed  a  month.  Dolly  had  an  engagement  in 
New  York,  Jane  Hewlett  quarrelled  with  the  manager  and 
Pearl,  and  went  her  way.  Thomas  was  elated  with  his 
successes,  and  formed  a  new  troupe  to  go  westward. 

But  here  his  olden  ill  luck  attended  him.  Prosperity 
turned  his  head,  and  led  him  into  frequent  carousals.  By 
mid-winter  he  found  himself  at  the  foot  of  the  ladder  again, 
kicked  there  by  the  very  men  who  had  drank  his  cham- 
paigne,  and  been  feasted  at  his  expense.  He  grew  embit- 
tered and  savagely  morose.  Others  could  keep  out  of  his 
way,  or  refuse  to  make  engagements  with  him,  but  Titania 
was  his  bond  slave. 

She  had  heard  twice  from  Kate.  They  were  living  in 
Paris,  at  a  hotel,  kept  an  elegant  turn-out,  drove  every- 
where, went  to  theatres,  and  to  balls  and  suppers,  and  dear 
Gilbert  was  the  most  adorable  of  husbands.  He  had  taken 


A   BOND   SLAVE.  169 

part  of  the  management  of  a  theatre,  was  writing  a  play 
for  it,  and  this  news  overjoyed  the  little  creature. 

M  If  Gilbert  succeeds,"  wrote  Kate,  "  and  I  know  he  will, 
my  dear, —  Paris  is  so  different  from  New  York,  and  is  not  so 
jealous  about  recognizing  talent,  —  he  may  have  a  theatre 
of  his  own,  and  we  shall  send  for  you.  I  hope  you  are 
well  and  happy,  and  improving.  We  expect  to  make  a 
great  actress  of  you.  Are  you  as  pretty  as  ever  ?  I  hope 
you  keep  your  hair  in  nice  order.  Do  not  allow  any  one 
to  cut  it.  I  wish  I  had  you  here  this  very  minute,  though 
Gilbert  declares  that  he  should  be  jealous  to  see  me  kiss 
another  human  being.  He  confesses  that  he  was  desper- 
ately jealous  of  you.  I  should  send  for  you  immediately,  for 
I  am  real  lonely  while  Gilbert  is  at  his  club  and  the  rehear- 
sals, and  he  has  so  many  people  to  see  on  business ;  but  he 
says  it  wouldn't  be  fair  to  break  the  engagement  with 
Thomas.  Do  you  like  him?  Tell  me  everything,  my 
sweet  girl.  Take  care  of  your  complexion  and  your  hair. 
There  is  nothing  like  beauty  for  an  actress.  I  hope  you  will 
grow  tall  and  slender.  Next  year  you  will  be  with  us. 
How  I  am  counting  on  it." 

Titania  cried  over  her  two  precious  letters,  and  slept 
with  them  under  her  pillow.  She  managed  to  concoct  a 
wretched  scrawl,  with  a  strange  sense  of  shame  and  embar- 
rassment at  her  own  ignorance.  But  she  poured  out  all  her 
child's  heart,  all  her  longings.  Now  Kate  appeared  to  her 
as  almost  perfection.  No  woman,  except  Dolly  St.  John, 
had  been  so  kind,  save  in  the  transient  intervals  of  kissing 
and  caressing  for  some  remarkable  performance.  And 
there  was  such  a  continual  change  to  her  life.  A  week 
here,  a  fortnight  there,  the  friends  of  yesterday  disappear- 
ing in  the  night. 

At  the  holidays  Thomas  indulged  in  a  long  debauch, 
the  like  of  which  had  not  occurred  for  several  years.  The 
engagements  with  Titania  he  found  very  profitable,  al- 
beit they  were  not  of  the  highest  order.  Indeed,  the  poor 


170  LOST  IN  A   GREAT  CITY 

child  was  dragged  to  a  depth  that  would  have  angered 
Dick  Bridger,  could  he  have  seen  his  little  queen,  the 
darling  of  his  heart. 

Titania  shrank  from  these  associations.  They  disgusted 
her,  nay,  filled  her  with  a  horrible  fear.  She  possessed  an 
innate  refinement,  a  love  of  clean  and  wholesome  things, 
and  though  there  was  much  in  the  ribaldry  and  profanity 
that  was  quite  beyond  her  comprehension,  she  had  an  in- 
stinctive dread  of  it.  The  third-rate  lodging-houses  at 
which  they  generally  stopped  were  filled  with  people  from 
whom  she  shrank  shiveringly,  and  hid  herself  in  some  little 
box  of  a  room,  sometimes  pinched  with  cold,  as  wrapped 
in  an  old  shawl  she  would  curl  herself  up  on  the  bed  and 
indulge  in  a  few  solitary  tears. 

Kate's  letter  had  given  her  so  much  comfort.  Titania 
had  been  trained  to  such  strict  obedience  that  she  seldom 
thought  of  rebelling.  She  counted  the  weary  weeks,  —  the 
year  would  end  presently. 

In  March  they  went  to  New  York  for  a  brief  stay.  Mrs. 
Thomas  was  looking  worn,  and  Ranny's  disease  had  taken 
on  a  new  phase,  but  little  short  of  insanity.  In  some  of 
his  rages  Thomas  threatened  to  kill  the  child ;  but,  though 
the  man  had  grown  brutal  enough  through  the  influence  of 
rum  to  do  such  a  deed,  still  he  had  a  wholesome  dread  of 
the  law. 

It  seemed  to  Titania  that  she  could  endure  the  life  no 
longer.  The  many  privations  had  begun  to  leave  their 
sign-manual.  She  was  thin  and  pale,  the  brightness  had 
gone  out  of  her  face,  and  a  languor  characterized  every 
movement  when  she  was  off  the  stage.  As  for  her  per- 
formances, she  went  through  them  mechanically.  She  had 
grown  used  to  danger  and  daring.  Sometimes  the  music 
and  the  applause  stirred  her  up  for  a  brief  while,  but  the 
inspiration  was  soon  over.  With  a  peculiar  jealousy, 
Thomas  had  taken  advantage  of  her  dread  of  strange  facesj 
to  keep  her  as  much  to  herself  as  possible. 


A  BOND   SLAVE.  171 

In  this  mood,  compounded  of  fear  and  despair,  she  wrote 
to  Kate,  making  an  appeal  to  her  love,  and  describing  her 
terrible  life  with  Thomas.  Could  she  not  come  to  Paris 
at  once  ?  Would  not  Kate  send  for  her  ?  She  would  do 
her  best  for  Mr.  Chippenham.  She  had  learned  so  many 
new  feats ;  she  had  danced  in  the  ballet  also,  and  won 
much  applause.  But,  Oh,  how  could  she  wait  four  or  five 
months  longer  !  She  should  die  here  if  Kate  left  her  alone 
all  that  time. 

Then  Titania  crept  cautiously  down-stairs. 

"Mrs.  Thomas,  will  you  give  me  a  little  money  for  a 
postage  stamp  ?  "  she  asked  in  a  beseeching  tone. 

"  Why,  I  have  some  here  that  you're  quite  welcome  to. 
Hush,  don't  let  Ranny  hear  your  voice.  It  will  set  him  off 
again." 

"  But  I  can't  use  that  stamp,  Mrs.  Thomas.  My  letter 
is  to  go  to  Paris." 

u How  much  do  you  want?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  hesitatingly.  "  I  never  put  a  letter  in 
the  Post-office." 

"  And  I  don't  believe  you  you  can  get  a  stamp  like  that 
any  where  around  here.  I  wouldn't  dare  trust  you  to  go 
*iown  town.  Thomas,  he'd  be  so  mad  if  anything  happened 
to  you.  And  you  don't  know  your  way  much  about  the 
city." 

It  was  very  true.  Titania  shivered  now,  with  the  dim 
remembrance  of  her  once  being  lost.  She  could  never  dis- 
miss that  sickening  episode. 

"  Wait,  and  let  Owen  do  it." 

w  But  I  would  rather." 

"  Oh,  there  he  comes  now.  Owen,  Miss  Titania  has  been 
writing  a  letter  to  France,  rind  she  wants  a  foreign  postage 
stamp,"  said  his  wife.  "  She  can't  get  it  around  here,  can 
she?" 

"  No,  she  can't,"  and  the  man  turned  his  blear  eyes  full 
upon  her.  "You're  a  fool  to  be  writing  to  them  peo 


172  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

pie;  what  do  you  s'pose   they   care?    You  haven't   had 
a  letter  in  ever  so  long,"  he  said,  scoffingly. 

"But  I  wanted  to  write;"  and  the  pale  little  lip 
quivered. 

"  Why  can't  you  take  her  letter  down  town,  Owen?" 

"Well,  I  will.  You  wouldn't  know  what  to  do,  any 
how,  'n  officials  always  hate  to  be  bothered  with  children 
hangin'  round,  and  asking  questions.  Give  it  to  me." 

"  It  is  up-stairs." 

"  Well,  go  and  get  it  —  if  you  want  it  sent." 

Titania  went  slowly,  wondering.  Thomas  had  sent  two 
letters  for  her,  and  both  had  gone  safely.  Why  should  she 
distrust  him  now  ?  But  she  was  so  very  anxious  about 
this,  and  she  had  a  sense  of  concealment  that  was  almost 
guilt.  Yet  there  remained  nothing  to  do  but  to  produce 
it,  which  she  did  with  an  air  of  hesitancy. 

"  If  you  would  only  take  me  with  you,"  she  said  wist- 
fully. ' 

"  I  can't.  I  have  some  business  on  hand,  and  you'd  be 
in  the  way." 

Titania  delivered  up  the  letter  with  a  strange  misgiving. 

Thomas  put  it  in  his  pocket  and  went  about  his  busi- 
ness, which  was  to  make  a  new  engagement  for  the  "  world 
renowned  Queen  Titania."  A  travelling  circus  desired  to 
obtain  her  for  a  few  weeks. 

He  haggled  over  his  bargain,  and  entirely  forgot  his 
other  errand  until  Nora  asked  him  at  breakfast,  the  next 
morning,  if  the  letter  had  gone.  Something  in  her  eager 
tones,  and  expectant  face,  struck  him,  and  he  dared  not 
face  her  with  a  disappointment. 

"Yes,  that's  all  right,"  he  returned,  carelessly.  "On 
Tuesday  we  start  off  on  another  tramp,  so  get  your  traps 
ready." 

"  You  are  quite  sure  it  is  gone  ?  " 

It  was  so  important  to  her  that  she  could  not  be  satis- 
fied with  only  one  asseveration. 


A  BOND   SLAVE.  173 

"Yes,"  he  answered,  crossly. 

He  did  mean  to  post  it  that  day,  but  various  other 
matters  demanded  his  attention,  and  it  passed  out  of  his 
mind  until  evening.  Then  he  found  himself  at  a  drink- 
ing-saloon,  with  some  roystering  companions,  playing  cards. 
Inadvertently  he  pulled  it  out  of  his  pocket,  and  uttered 
an  oath  as  he  saw  it. 

They  finished  their  game,  and  one  of  the  men  disputed 
the  points.  Thomas  broke  the  seal  of  the  letter,  and 
glanced  vaguely  over  its  contents. 

I  do  not  think  the  man  did  this  from  curiosity,  or  any 
distrust  of  Titania.  It  was  a  half-drunken  whim.  But  he 
caught  sight  of  his  own  name,  read  a  few  lines,  and  then 
thrust  it  into  its  former  receptacle. 

"The  ungrateful  little  huzzy!"  he  muttered,  settling 
himself  to  another  game. 

He  staggered  home  at  midnight,  and  the  next  morning, 
as  he  was  dressing,  remembered  the  half-read  epistle.  He 
would  see  what  this  puny  thing  dared  to  complain  of.  He 
had  taken  care  of  her  according  to  agreement,  paid  for  her 
promptly  when  the  salary  came  due.  Chippenham  had 
left  the  matter  in  good  hands  for  himself.  It  was  the 
money  or  the  child.  A  week's  delay  would  cancel  the  en- 
gagement, and  others  stood  ready  to  take  Queen  Titania. 

Thomas  had  paid  the  money  grudgingly,  it  must  be  con- 
fessed. He  had  found  his  winter's  business  with  her  more 
profitable,  really,  than  first-class  engagements.  But  that 
she  should  dare  to  complain !  that  she  should  have  any 
ideas  of  her  own! 

"  I'll  pay  her  of?  for  this,  the  miserable,  deceitful  jade ! " 
he  stormed.  "  She'll  see  whether  her  dear  Kate  will  send 
for  her ! "  and  a  cruel  sneer  crossed  his  lips.  "  I'll  have 
her  another  year,  if  I  choose  !  Chip  '11  likely  be  hard  up, 
and  glad  to  get  the  money.  I'll  make  my  own  bargain, 
too  !  I've  given  in  to  her  whims,  and  her  wishes,  and  her 
cant's,  and  her  wont's.  She's  got  to  come  to  the  mark  after 


174  LOST   IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 

this,  the  sly  little  devil !  I'll  teach  her  to  lie  about  me ! 
Afraid !  well,  she  better  be !  And  I've  a  right  to  get 
drunk,  if  I  like ;  it  takes  no  one's  money  but  my  own ! 
We'll  see,  my  rare  little  lady  !  curse  you ! " 

He  hurried  on  his  clothes,  and  ran  down-stairs.  The 
table  was  set  for  one,  some  dishes  were  covered  in  the 
oven,  keeping  hot,  and  a  piece  of  juicy  steak  waiting  to  be 
broiled. 

Ranny  was  fastened  in  a  chair,  before  the  window,  the 
wide  sill  of  which  was  strewn  with  playthings. 

"  Where's  Titania  ?  "  thundered  the  master. 

"  Titania !  "  and  Mrs.  Thomas  started,  with  a  half-scared 
look.  "  Why,  she  is  up-stairs,  in  her  room.  She  had  her 
breakfast  an  hour  ago.  What  is  the  matter  with  you, 
Owen?  You  look—." 

"  Go  up  and  see  if  she  is  there  ?  * 

«  Why  ?  " 

"  Go  this  minute,  if  you  don't  want  your  head  broken,"  he 
shouted. 

"  Owen,  are  you  crazy  ?  "  and  she  stood  aghast.  Then, 
frightened  at  the  fierce  scowl,  she  started  to  do  his  bidding. 

He  came  to  his  senses  before  she  returned.  He  would 
be  crazy  to  give  a  hint  about  the  letter,  and  he  thrust  it 
into  the  stove.  No  one  must  be  aware  that  he  had  any 
special  cause  for  mistrusting  Titania. 

"  She's  all  right  enough,"  said  Mrs.  Thomas,  entering  the 
room.  "  She's  up-stairs,  reading." 

"  I  had  a  queer  dream  about  her,"  was  the  explanation 
he  vouchsafed. 

"  That  she  had  run  away  ?  n  asked  his  wife. 

"  Run  away  ?  "  and  he  put  on  an  air  of  surprise.  "  What 
made  you  think  of  that?  Is  she  dissatisfied,  or  anything? 
No,  I  dreamed  she  was  stolen,  murdered,"  making  up  the 
story  on  the  instant. 

"  How  horrible,  Owen  1     Who  did  it  ?  " 

**  No  one  seemed  to  know.    There,  don't  frighten  her 


A   BOND   SLAVE.  175 

with  any  such  story.  Hold  your  tongue  about  it.  And, 
I  say,  keep  a  sharp  lookout.  Does  she  stay  up  stairs 
much?" 

"  Why,  yes.  It  isn't  hardly  safe  for  her  to  be  within 
Ranny's  reach,  you  know." 

"  Hang  the  brat  ?  If  you  let  anything  happen  to  her 
I'll  shove  him  in  a  'sylum  the  next  day,  just  you  mind 
that;"  and  be  gave  a  sharp  decisive  nod. 

"  I  don't  think  you  need  feel  afraid.  She's  the  shyest 
little  thing  I  ever  knew.  She  ain't  a  bit  like  the  stage 
people  I've  seen.  An'  all  she  seems  to  care  about  now  is 
poring  over  books  and  such.  Ought  n't  she  go  to  school 
some,  Owen  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  as  that's  any  of  your  business.  Them  as 
own  her  hire  her  out  for  stage  purposes,  and  make  a  fellow 
pay  high  enough  for  her,  too !  All  I've  to  think  about  is 
getting  my  money  back,  and  it's  a  hard  squeeze  ! "  finish- 
ing with  an  oath. 

The  savory  fragrance  of  the  steak  mollified  Thomas 
somewhat,  though  his  unreasonable  anger  against  Titania 
was  in  no  degree  abated. 

She  was  in  the  power  of  a  bad,  brutal  man ;  a  man  who 
daily  deadened  every  faculty  and  feeling  by  the  use  of  vile 
poisons.  A  little  girl,  particularly  defenceless,  in  that  there 
was  no  one  to  whom  she  could  apply.  Dolly  St.  John  had 
been  in  the  city  during  the  winter,  acting,  but  now  she 
was  gone  to  New  Orleans.  Beyond  her,  Titania's  heart  had 
warmed  to  no  one*.  The  shortness  of  their  sojourn  in 
every  place  had  precluded  anything  like  friendship.  Then 
the  narrow  jealousy  of  Owen  Thomas,  and  her  own  half 
diffidence,  half  fear  of  her  kind,  who  had  often  been  hard 
and  cruel,  kept  her  from  responding  to  the  advances  that 
might  have  benefited  her. 

Thomas  was  rough  and  surly  with  her.  It  was  really 
no  new  thing,  or  it  might  have  set  her  to  wondering.  And 
then  she  hugged  her  blessed  secret  to  her  heart.  Kate 


176  LOST   IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 

would  surely  send  for  her  when  she  read  her  letter.  Ot 
if,  at  the  worst,  more  than  half  the  year  was  gone.  April 
was  coming  in.  She  would  not  have  to  be  shut  up  in  cold 
rooms,  or  stand  shivering  in  scanty  attire  on  draughty 
stages. 

Ah,  how  good  Dick  had  been !  How  he  used  to  fold 
her  in  nice  warm  shawls,  and  carry  her  in  his  arms,  and 
have  bright  grate  fires  in  the  room  at  night.  And  the 
quiet  little  suppers  when  she  sat  on  his  knee ! 

Ah,  Dick  Bridger,  there  was  no  more  grateful  memory 
in  the  whole  world  than  that  this  child  held  of  you. 

But  how  had  it  fared  with  Kate,  all  this  while  ? 

She  had  realized  that  her  new  husband  was  not  all  per- 
fection. It  was  an  article  in  Gilbert  Chippenham's  creed 
that  every  woman,  old  or  young,  desired  most  of  all  to  be 
made  love  to  continually ;  and  he  fancied  himself  a  com- 
plete adept  in  the  art.  So  he  managed  to  hold  his  sway 
over  Kate,  though  he  did  now  and  then  call  her  a  fool. 
Meanwhile,  out  of  her  sight,  he  solaced  himself  with 
younger  and  fairer  loves.  He  was  in  his  element  at  Paris. 
He  had  picked  up  a  very  decent  smattering  of  French, 
which  was  a  great  help  to  him  now.  He  made  a  plunge 
into  the  gay,  beguiling,  theatric  life  of  Paris ;  he  was 
young,  good-looking,  and  had  plenty  of  money,  and  there 
were  sharpers  enough  —  he  could  hardly  have  missed  them 
anywhere  —  to  relieve  him  of  the  liule  plethora. 

And  so  he  saw  the  gay  world,  Kate  paying  for  it. 

A  keener  woman  might  have  grown  suspicious,  but  he 
could  deceive  her  so  easily  with  his  semblance  of  love, 
his  good-natured  jollity,  —  for  he  was  not  an  ill-tempered 
man  when  it  was  all  smooth  sailing,  and  he  had  plenty 
of  money.  And  she  found  much  to  amuse  herself  with ; 
only,  to  her  credit  be  it  spoken,  as  the  time  went  on  she 
longed  more  and  more  for  Titania. 

It  was  the  one  point  in  dispute  between  the  husband 
and  wife.  Chippenham  had  distrusted  the  quiet  eyes  of 


A   BOND   SLAVE.  177 

Titania  from  the  first.  She  seemed  to  read  the  subter- 
fuges that  blinded  Kate  so  easily.  If  she  were  here  she 
might  help  to  open  Kate's  eyes,  —  and,  truth  to  tell,  he 
found  her  profitable  where  she  was, —  so  he  put  off  Kate's 
entreaties.  Thus  far  Titania  had  made  no  complaints  — 
she  was  well  enough  off  then.  They  would  send  for  her 
presently,  when  her  year  was  up.  Thomas  might  make  no 
end  of  a  row,  and  sue  them,  and  they  would  get  into  diffi- 
culties without  doing  any  one  any  good. 

But  Kate  sometimes  watched  the  groups  of  pretty  chil- 
dren with  a  feeling  of  envy.  Titania  would  be  noticeable 
anywhere,  and  she  hoped  —  not  that  the  poor  child  was 
well  treated  and  happy  —  but  that  she  was  growing  more 
beautiful,  that  she  would  be  tall  and  slender,  and  keep  her 
hair  of  pale  gold,  and  pearly  complexion. 
12 


178  LOST  IN  A   GREAT  CITY. 


CHAPTER  XVL 

"WE  ABB   SO  TIBED,  MT   HEART  AND  t," 

AH,  the  wearisome  round!  The  vile  smell  of  kerosene, 
the  stale  jests  of  the  ring,  at  which  happy  unsurfeited  boy« 
hood  laughs,  when  they  are  heard  once  or  twice  a  year,  the 
perils  at  which  the  audience  first  holds  its  breath,  and  then 
applauds  noisily. 

Never  had  the  work  been  so  hard  to  Titania.  The 
strain  and  drain  of  the  winter  had  worn  her  sadly,  and  the 
lassitude  of  spring  seemed  to  take  the  strength  out  of  her 
limbs,  the  ambition  from  her  brain.  The  noisy  voices  dis- 
tracted her,  the  rough  tones  of  the  men  filled  her  with 
terror,  and  now  and  then  some  audacious  kiss  startled  her, 
and  made  her  shrink  with  an  undefined  fear. 

There  was  a  bold,  handsome  equestrienne,  Mademoiselle 
Virginie  de  Rohan,  who  delighted  the  audience  with  her 
perilous  riding,  and  took  every  opportunity  to  extinguish 
Queen  Titania,  and  annihilate  her  with  stinging  sarcasms 
off  the  stage. 

"  This  won't  do !  "  declared  Thomas,  savagely.  "  You 
have  no  more  spirit  than  a  limp  rag,  and  that  slack  rope 
performance  was  wretched !  It  hardly  brought  out  a  bit 
of  applause." 

"  I  was  so  tired,"  the  soft  voice  said,  piteously. 

"  Tired  ! "  and  he  uttered  an  oath.  "  You  are  not  worth 
your  salt,  you  miserable  limp  rag ! " 

"  Why  do  they  want  me  then  ?  And  I  had  to  go  on 
the  third  time,"  she  said,  with  a  sudden  touch  of  spirit. 

"  Take  that  for  your  impudence,  will  you !  "  and  a  blow 


WE  ARE  SO  TIRED,   MY   HEART  AND  1.  179 

sent  her  reeling  against  an  upright  supporting  a  side  scene. 
"  I'll  teach  you  who's  master  here." 

She  was  stunned,  for  a  moment;  then  all  her  outraged 
pride  asserted  itself. 

"  How  dare  you  strike  me  1 "  and  she  stood  before  him 
pale  as  death,  but  firm  and  untrembling. 

"  You'll  get  it  again  if  you  don't  shut  your  head.  See 
here,"  and  he  seized  her  roughly  by  the  arm,  so  that  she 
was  compelled  to  cry  out  with  the  pain.  "  See  here,  you've 
put  on  too  many  airs  of  late,  and  by  God  I'll  stop  it.  I'm 
your  master!  I  pay  for  you,  and  a  devilish  good  price, 
too,  and  you've  got  to  work  for  it.  Let  me  see  any  such 
milk-and-water  performance  another  night!" 

She  shrank  away,  cowering  like  some  poor  beaten  dog. 
Of  late  he  had  grown  so  fierce,  so  brutal  indeed !  She 
could  not  know  that  the  intercepted  letter  was  rankling  in 
his  mind,  urging  him  on  at  such  times  when  rum  made  a 
demon  of  him. 

So  she  crawled  away  to  her  lonely  bed,  faint,  frightened, 
sick  with  the  thought  of  the  dreary  days  that  must  inter- 
vene before  salvation  came. 

Titania  tried  her  utmost  the  next  evening,  and  pleased 
her  audience,  was  loudly  encored,  and  repeated  one  or  two 
of  the  most  trying  feats.  Thomas  was  better  natured,  and 
gave  her  a  rough  sort  of  commendation,  but  it  was  more  to 
her  than  all  the  applause  of  the  crowd.  She  was  so  tired 
of  that,  so  tired.  But  she  kept  up  heart.  It  was  only  a 
month's  engagement  with  the  circus,  and  after  that  there 
might  be  a  little  rest.  Even  the  home  with  Mrs.  Thomas 
looked  inviting. 

Alas  1  In  this  she  was  doomed  to  a  bitter  disappoint- 
ment. Thomas  had  what  he  called  a  streak  of  luck.  A 
boon  companion  had  made  him  an  offer  in  partnership  of  a 
place  in  successful  operation. 

L was  a  large  manufacturing  town.  On  every  hand 

were  evidences  of  trade  and  industry.  There  were  mills, 


180  LOST  IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 

factories,  shops,  unlimited  water-power,  railroads  crossing 
it  like  a  net  work.  On  the  outskirts,  at  the  northern  end, 
there  was  wealth,  culture,  refinement,  and  beauty.  Elegant 
ladies  rode  in  their  carriages,  fine  looking,  well  kept  busi- 
ness men  thronged  the  streets.  Churches,  an  extensive 
library,  a  handsome  hall,  with  its  concert  and  lecture  rooms, 
and  nicely  kept  parks,  afforded  sources  of  interest  and 
amusement. 

That  was  the  bright  side  of  the  town. 

But  there  were  other  places,  given  over  to  the  low  and 
vile;  there  were  streets  abounding  in  beer  saloons,  cellars, 
and  gambling-dens.  Now  and  then  a  spasm  of  virtuous 
public  sentiment  was  aroused,  and  a  descent  made  upon 
the  most  notorious,  but  in  a  few  weeks  it  would  be  for- 
gotten. 

There  was,  at  one  point,  amid  shops  and  factories,  a 
railroad  junction.  Long  ago  it  had  been  given  over  to 
business,  though  a  few  old  white  haired  men  babbled  of  the 
time  when  it  had  been  an  orchard,  and  the  ancient  landmarks 
of  houses  were  inhabited  by  the  first  families.  Turning  up 
a  broad  business  thoroughfare  you  saw,  on  the  one  side,  a 
few  second  or  third  rate  boarding-houses,  billiard-halls,  and 
lunch-rooms.  Standing  next,  in  a  little  recess,  was  a  broad, 
low  building,  with  a  flaring  gilt  sign,  "  The  Odeon,"  and  at 
each  side  bulletin-boards  with  posters  in  blue  and  red,  and 
gorgeous  ornamental  capitals. 

Common  as  the  Odeon  seemed,  it  was  a  great  place  of 
resort,  and  profitable  to  its  owners  or  lessees.  There  were 
always  some  handsome  dancing-girls,  dashing  character 
songs,  witty  burlesques,  and  a  drinking-saloon  next  door. 
The  audience  was  not  choice  or  select,  composed  largely  of 
roughs,  and  that  portion  of  factory  hands  who  ate  and 
slept  in  boarding-houses,  and  spent  their  evenings  where 
the  attraction  was  the  strongest. 

Six  months  ago  Thomas  would  have  disdained  this  offer ; 
now  he  closed  with  it  instantly,  as  general  stage-manager. 


WE  ABE  SO   TIRED,  MY  HEART  AND  L  181 

Titania  found  herself  again  in  a  strange  city,  amid  smoke, 
and  grime,  and  noise,  an  inmate  of  a  common  boarding- 
house,  sharing  a  third-story  front  room  with  two  coryphees 
of  the  burlesque. 

Titania  glanced  around,  in  piteous  terror,  as  she  was  set 
down  in  the  midst.  The  shabby  carpet  was  worn  in  holes, 
the  bureau  and  chairs  had  been  long  despoiled  of  their 
pristine  polish.  A  very  much  tumbled  double  bed  in  one 
corner,  and  a  small  camp  bedstead  in  another,  a  closet  door 
open,  displaying  much  soiled  finery,  and  the  top  of  every- 
thing loaded  down  with  bits  and  fragments,  faded  flowers, 
gauze,  spangles,  wigs  and  curls  of  jute,  or  other  imitation  ; 
the  disorder  of  the  green-room  for  daily  living. 

A  girl  sat  on  the  floor  fashioning  some  sort  of  stage  cos- 
tume, as  tumbled  in  her  own  attire  as  in  her  surroundings. 
She  might  have  been  twenty,  and  was  handsome,  with  a 
bold,  hard  beauty,  albeit  very  fair. 

"  I  shall  have  to  put  this  new  girl  in  your  room,  Miss 
De  Vere.  I'm  just  crowded  full,  and  there's  a  spare  bed 
here,"  said  the  landlady,  a  stout,  florid  personage. 

Miss  De  Vere  glanced  up  and  nodded.  Titania  stood 
just  inside  the  door,  feeling  strangely  desolate. 

"  Come  in,  and  make  yourself  at  home.  Why,  what  a 
mite  you  are!  You're  not  that  wonderful  Queen  Titania, 
of  course  ?  Don't  be  afraid." 

The  voice  was  carelessly  good-natured,  and  the  face  as 
carelessly  indifferent. 

"  Yes,  I  am  —  Queen  Titania ; "  was  the  low,  tremulous 
answer.  Ah,  if  she  were  not ! 

"  Oh,  my  stars  and  garters  1  You !  "  and  there  was  more 
contempt  than  surprise  in  the  tone.  "  None  of  your  lying ! 
It  won't  go  down  here." 

Titania's  eyes  filled  with  tears,  —  sweet,  soft-brown  eyes 
that  her  dead  mother  had  loved. 

The  other  looked  astonished. 

"  You  don't  really  mean  it !  "  she  exclaimed. 


182  LOST  IN  A   GREAT   CITY. 

"  Yes,  I  am  —  "  but  her  voice  failed. 

"  Well,  I  declare  !  Here  we've  been  afraid  of  our  very 
lives,  thinking  you  were  some  great  thing,  and  that  nobody 
would  look  at  us  when  you  came,  and  you're  just  the  mer- 
est mite ;  and  somehow  you've  an  awfully  old-fashioned 
look.  Why !  you're  not  a  bit  handsome,  either." 

Titania  flushed.  She  had  learned  how  necessary  beauty 
was,  and  all  of  her  hopes  of  Kate  rested  upon  that  fact. 
For  an  instant  she  was  stunned  and  crushed  by  the  blow. 

"You're  thin  and  pale,  and  altogether  different  from 
what  I  expected.  Rose  and  me,  that's  my  partner,  —  she's 
Rose,  and  I'm  Lilian.  We  chose  the  names  because  I  was 
fair,  and  she  has  a  good  deal  of  color ;  and  oh,  such  black 
eyes  !  We  pass  for  sisters,  but  we're  not ;  a  high  old  con- 
trast we  make,"  and  she  laughed  loudly.  "  As  I  was  say- 
ing, Rose  and  me  had  made  up  our  minds  that  we'd  give 
you  a  hard  time  of  it,  but  you  look  such  a  weak,  forlorn 
little  thing !  Why,  how  old  are  you  ?  " 

"I  must  be  nearly  eleven,  I  think;"  and  now  the  tears 
began  to  drop  silently. 

"  Eleven  !  Oh,  I  don't  believe  that.  You're  not  more'n 
nine,  I  know.  Empty  a  chair,  and  sit  down.  Come,  make 
yourself  at  home.  I  want  to  hear  about  that  pedestal 
dance.  Do  you  really  dance,  and  is  it  up  so  high  ?  Oh, 
there,  don't  be  a  baby  !  May  be  you'd  like  to  take  off  your 
things,  and  lie  down  here  on  the  bed." 

She  sprang  up  and  swept  off  the  finery,  huddling  it  in  a 
heap  in  the  corner,  and  looking  wonderingly  at  the  child, 
who  was  now  sobbing. 

"  There  I  I  wouldn't  cry.  You  feel  a  bit  strange,  but 
you'll  soon  get  used  to  us ;  and  I'll  coax  Rose  not  to  stir 
up  a  row.  Rose  is  mighty  hot-headed,  I  tell  you  ;  and  we 
thought  you'd  cut  in  for  some  of  the  chaps,  but  you're  not 
that  kind,  I  think ;  and  you're  too  little  and  pale,  anyhow. 
Fellows  don't  like  such  milk-and-water  girls.  You're  out 
of  our  line,  altogether ;  so  Rose  can  be  content." 


WE  ARE  SO   TIRED,   MY   HEART   AND  L  183 

Titania  took  off  her  hat  and  mantle,  and  laid  them  on  a 
pile  of  trumpery,  the  foundation  of  which  was  a  chair. 
She  sat  wearily  on  the  side  of  the  dingy  bed.  There  was 
a  whirl  of  confusion  without.  The  screech  of  the  different 
locomotives,  the  rattling  of  carts  and  wagons  over  the  cob- 
ble-stones, the  shouts,  and  calls,  and  cries,  the  noise  and 
hubbub  in  the  house,  the  click  of  billiard-playing  some- 
where, and  a  snatch  of  drinking  song  by  a  tipsy  German, 
fell  on  her  sensitive  ear  with  painful  incongruity.  It  was 
a  close,  warm  morning,  and  the  house  had  a  sickening 
scent  of  uncleanliness. 

They  had  been  travelling  over  country-ways,  where  the 
young  and  dewy  spring  was  making  itself  felt  and  seen. 
Soft  greenish-brown  wraiths  stood  by  the  roadside,  and 
violets  starred  the  grass ;  while  the  wandering  south  wind 
wafted  the  spicy  fragrance  of  the  awakening  woods.  And 
now  to  come  to  crowded  streets  and  stifling  rooms,  the 
squalor  and  glitter  that  jostled  rudely  the  coarse,  hard  life ! 
—  oh,  if  she  could  but  die !  she  was  tired  of  waiting  for 
Kate's  summons.  Could  she  ever  live  through  the  long, 
warm  summer?  Suddenly  her  heart  and  flesh  failed.  It 
seemed  for  a  moment  as  if  she  might  be  dying,  and  a 
shiver  of  fear  sped  through  her  veins. 

"  Can  I  do  anything  for  you  ?  "  cried  Lillian,  startled  at 
the  deathly  paleness.  "  Are  you  sick  ?  Oh,  you  are  a 
poor  little  mite.  Why,  your'e  never  fit  for  the  things 
you're  said  to  do,  or  is  it  all  a  sham  !  Guy !  Won't  King 
be  mad  if  Thomas  has  bamboozled  him  ! "  and  she  laughed 
coarsely  at  the  thought. 

"  Is  King  —  "  and  a  choking  sensation  stopped  Titania's 
voice. 

"  King  is  our  grand  high  duke.  Now  its  '  King  and 
Thomas'  unrivalled  combination  troupe,  Queen  Titania, 
the  world-renowned  child  acrobat,  trained  by  a  celebrated 
performer'  —  who  trained  you?"  changing  her  tone,  ab 
ruptly. 


;,84  LOST  IN  A  GREAT   CITY. 

«  Signer  Barretti." 

**  Barretti  ?  I  don't  believe  I've  seen  him.  Where  ia 
jie  ?  "  with  a  dull  wonder  in  her  eyes. 

tt  Dead  ! "  and  then  Titania  said  softly  to  herself,  "  Oh, 
my  poor,  dear  Dick,  can  you  not  send  for  me  to  come 
to  heaven  ?  I  am  so  miserable  here." 

"  Oh  !     Have  you  any  folks  —  relatives  ?  " 

"  No."  She  was  tired  of  going  into  particulars  only  to 
hear  most  of  them  discredited. 

"  Well,  you  don't  look  so  much  like  dying  as  you  did  a 
minute  ago.  You'd  better  get  rested  up,  as  you're  on  the 
bills  for  to-night." 

Lilian  resumed  her  seat  and  her  work.  Titania  lay 
quite  still.  There  was  a  ringing  in  her  ears,  the  thump 
of  a  sledge-hammer  at  her  temples,  and  every  inch  of  her 
small  body  throbbed  with  a  dull,  torturing  pain.  So  tired  ! 
So  tired !  How  could  she  get  up  and  dance  to-night;  leap, 
and  fly,  and  swing  ! 

There  was  a  great  stir  presently.  A  click  of  heels  up 
the  stairs  and  through  the  halls,  a  snatch  of  street  song, 
and  some  one  entered  the  room.  Titania  did  not  open  her 
eyes. 

It  was  Rose,  and  the  clatter  of  the  two  girls'  tongues 
almost  set  her  wild.  Rose  had  a  mind  to  be  unfriendly, 
but  Lilian  took  her  part,  and  pitied  her,  depreciating  her 
with  every  word,  it  was  true,  and  yet  it  did  not  seem  to 
be  done  with  either  malice  or  ill-nature.  Its  perfect  hon- 
esty was  the  bitter  sting  to  the  poor  child. 

She  had  been  caressed  and  flattered  a  great  deal  during 
her  short  life.  She  had  learned  that  beauty  and  grace  and 
attractiveness  were  the  cardinal  points,  and  in  her  childish 
way  she  had  been  proud  of  possessing  them.  But  to  be 
"udely  shorn  of  all  her  glory,  to  have  a  failure  predicted, 
seemed  so  cruel !  Could  she  dare  to  face  this  brazen,  de- 
cisive Rose,  this  complacent  Lilian  ? 


WE   ARE   SO   TIRED,   MY    HEART   AND   I.  185 

There  was  a  loud  clang  through  the  house,  that  startled 
her.  She  sprang  up,  white  and  terrified. 

Lilian  laughed  heartily. 

"That's  only  the  dinner  bell.  Will  you  go  down? 
Poor  little  thing.  Rose,  I  feel  sorry  for  herj"  and  the 
glance  seemed  to  bespeak  the  other's  pity. 

Rose  stared  insolently. 

"  You  look  like  the  ghost  of  buried  hopes  1  King's  been 
sold,  sure  as  my  name's  Rose  De  Vere." 

Which  it  isn't  at  all,"  laughed  Lilian. 

"  To  all  intents  and  purposes.  If  my  sponsors  neglected 
their  business  it  follows  that  I  must  see  to  it.  Will  it 
please  your  high  mightiness,  Queen  Titania,  to  descend  to 
the  lower  region,  and  partake  of  pork  and  beans,  or  calf's 
brains  ?  "  and  she  held  out  her  elbow,  as  if  offering  her  an 
escort. 

"  I  would  rather  stay  here.     I  am  not  hungry." 

M  You  had  better  come,"  suggested  Lilian. 

Titania  shook  her  head. 

"  No  fooling,"  and  Rose  gave  her  companion  a  jerk. 
"  Dinner  is  always  a  game  of  grab,  you  know.  The  first 
fellow  is  the  best  fellow." 

With  that  they  left  her.  Titania  shed  a  few  bitter, 
lonely  tears.  Oh,  if  there  were  but  one,  —  Kate,  Dolly  St. 
John,  or  any  human  being  who  had  been  kind  to  her,  — • 
one  soul  to  care  what  became  of  her. 

After  dinner  the  two  girls  dressed  themselves,  and  went 
out.  Trailing  black  silk  gowns,  glaring  jewelry,  and  imi- 
tation laces,  powder  and  rouge  for  Lilian,  and  lily-white  for 
Rose.  Jauntiest  of  hats,  and  lace  veils  that  enhanced 
their  beauty,  and  rendered  them  more  attractive  for  their 
promenade  and  street  flirtations. 

Titania  fell  asleep,  presently,  from  sheer  exhaustion.  It 
did  her  good.  The  racking  head-ache  was  better,  and 
though  she  still  trembled  in  every  limb,  a  latent  strength 
came  to  her  aid.  She  rose,  washed  her  face  and  hands, 


186  LOST  IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 

ihough  the  filthy  basin  left  by  the  two  girls  half  sickened 
her,  combed  out  her  shining  hair,  and  tied  a  ribbon  in  it 
Not  a  moment  too  soon.  The  knock  at  the  door  an- 
nounced Thomas. 

"  Why  did  n't  you  come  down  and  have  some  dinner?  " 
he  asked,  roughly,  not  being  at  all  moved  by  her  pale  face. 

"  I  felt  sick,"  she  answered,  hesitatingly. 

"  You've  no  business  to  be  sick,  do  you  hear  that  ?  I 
dou't  hire  you  to  get  sick.  Here's  your  trunk,  and  you 
better  be  looking  up  your  traps.  I  expect  you  to  make  a 
hit  to-night,  d'you  hear  ?  "  and  he  glanced  at  her  savagely. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Thomas,"  she  cried,  "  couldn't  I  have  some 
other  room.  There  are  two  girls  here,  and  if  I  could  be 
alone  — " 

"  A  room  to  yourself!  Well,  you  have  big  ideas,  for  a 
small  person,  I  must  say.  Next  thing  you'll  ask  for  a 
lady's  maid,  maybe  a  carriage  of  your  own  ;  ha,  ha !  "  with 
a  sneer.  "  You're  better  off  here  where  there's  some  one 
to  see  that  your  toggery  is  about  right.  And  I  can't  afford 
any  such  luxuries.  Look  out  that  you  come  down  and  get 
some  supper,"  and  he  shook  his  fist. 

She  made  no  answer  to  her  brutal  master. 

When  he  was  gone  she  unlocked  her  trunk  and  took 
out  a  few  articles.  How  soiled  and  crumpled  they  were. 
If  she  could  only  have  something  bright  and  fresh ;  if 
there  could  be  some  one  like  Dolly  St.  John !  Ah!  how 
long  ago  that  seemed.  How  long  since  any  one  had  really 
cared  for  her. 

Well,  by  this  time,  Kate  must  have  her  letter.  April 
was  half  gone,  and,  with  the  hopefulness  of  a  child,  she 
looked  forward  to  relief.  Kate  surely  would  not  leave  her 
with  Thomas  the  whole  summer. 

With  a  great  effort  she  ate  a  little  supper.  Then  she 
went  to  the  theatre  with  the  De  Veres,  heard  the  stale 
:osts  and  insolences,  and  watched  the  preparations  with 
apathy.  The  audience  began  to  gather,  and  to  grow 


WE  ABE  SO   TIRED,   MY   HEART   AND  I.  18" 

impatient.  There  was  the  burlesque,  the  dancing,  wildest 
of  its  kind,  the  songs,  the  rough  applause,  the  calls  for 
favorites  —  she  had  seen  it  so  many  times.  How  could 
they  skip,  and  whirl,  and  laugh,  as  if  it  was  all  a  delight  to 
them.  Did  they  never  tire  ? 

She  looked  so  pale  and  exhausted  when  it  came  her  turn, 
that  a  fellow  who  had  been  ranting  in  scarlet  and  tinsel,  as 
a  prince,  insisted  that  she  should  take  a  mouthful  of  brandy. 
Thomas  eyed  her  savagely. 

"  Don't  you  dare  to  fail !  if  you  do  I'll  half  murder  you," 
and  he  pinched  her  arm  until  it  stung. 

She  did  not  fail.  It  was  agonizing  to  the  last  degree, 
for  every  muscle  and  nerve  was  in  intense  physical  torment. 
The  noisy  crew  applauded,  stamped,  and  finally  cheered. 
Queen  Titania  had  been  a  success.  The  flying  leap  must 
be  taken  again.  There  were  cries  and  calls,  —  in  a  place 
like  this  the  mob  rules. 

There  was  a  noise  in  her  ears  like  the  rushing  of  a 
whirlwind,  and  when  she  reached  the  stage  so  dense  a 
darkness  was  before  her  eyes  that  she  tottered,  and  sank  on 
one  kneej  and  for  a  moment  or  two  remembered  nothing. 

Rose  De  Vere  was  in  high  dudgeon,  as  King  went  around 
rubbing  his  hands. 

"  She's  a  trump  card,  Thomas !  The  house  will  be  packed 
to-morrow  night.  Seems  to  me  she's  rather  peeked  look- 
ing. Are  you  sure  she's  strong  enough  to  stand  it  ?  " 

w  Oh,  she's  wiry,  and  had  splendid  training.  Stand  it  ? 
to  be  sure.  That's  her  business." 

She  stood  it  for  a  week,  in  fear  of  her  very  life,  so  much 
had  she  exaggerated  Thomas'  power  over  her.  Indeed, 
she  had  some  experience  of  the  man's  cruelty.  Pinches  and 
sly  blows  had  left  bruised  spots  on  her  body.  Two  or 
three  times,  in  a  drunken  fit,  he  had  kicked  her.  Then  he 
had  often  threatened  to  put  her  in  some  institution  as  a  re- 
fractory  and  disobedient  child.  His  power  over  hei 
seemed  supreme,  for  there  was  no  one  to  befriend  her. 


188  LOST  IN   A   GREAT  CITY. 

In  private  she  suffered  from  the  envy  of  Miss  Rose  Da 
Vere,  a  coarse,  common,  ignorant  girl,  in  spite  of  hef 
aristocratic  stage  appellation.  Had  Titania  been  old 
enough  to  attract  the  admiration  of  lovers,  Rose  would 
have  felt  like  dropping  poison  in  her  cup.  As  it  was,  she 
disparaged  her  in  every  possible  way,  sneered,  and  declared 
most  of  her  feats  were  mere  stage  tricks,  rather  than  any 
evidence  of  trained  skill  or  innate  agility. 

She  dragged  her  weary  little  frame  to  the  theatre.  Oh, 
what  a  ghastly,  horrible  mockery  the  lights  and  glare  and 
coarse  jollity  seemed.  The  crowd  of  eager,  almost  brutish 
faces,  intent  only  upon  their  two  hours'  amusement,  but 
sharp  to  exact  every  whit,  looked  so  pitiless  to  her.  How 
she  shrank  from  it  all!  Many  a  time  before,  the  same 
cold  shudder  had  sped  through  her  nerves,  but  now  it 
was  intensified  by  pains  that  seemed  to  sting  her  in  a 
thousand  places  at  once,  and  a  rush  of  burning  heat  that 
was  torture. 

Her  feats  and  the  flying  leap  had  been  performed.  She 
sat  huddled  in  a  little  heap  in  the  dirty  green-room,  shiv- 
ering one  instant,  and  the  next  burning  with  fiery  flashes. 
Her  head  was  dizzy,  the  whole  place  whirled  round,  the 
figures  of  her  compeers  were  grotesque,  their  voices  ap- 
peared to  come  from  some  distant  space,  and  mingled 
strangely  in  her  ears.  Oh,  if  she  dared  go  home  and 
crawl  away  to  bed. 

There  followed  a  bit  of  burlesque,  liberally  adorned  with 
street  slang  and  the  wildest  of  breakdowns,  in  which  Miss 
Rose  gayly  disported  herself,  and  was  generously  ap- 
plauded, several  bouquets  being  showered  upon  her.  But 
the  thorn  among  her  roses  was  the  next  announcement 
on  the  programme,  —  "  Wonderful  performance  of  Queen 
Titania  on  the  slack-rope."  And  then  they  would  clap 
and  stamp,  and  perhaps  call  out  the  pale-faced  chit  again  1 
How  she  hated  that  little  bundle  done  up  in  an  old  grey 
shawl,  leaning  against  a  bit  of  shifted  side-scene.  The 


WE    ARE    SO    TIRED,    MY    HEART    AND    1.  18& 

child  had  chosen  the  spot  to  get  away  from  the  noisy  slang 
and  merriment  of  the  green-room. 

"  Come,"  said  Thomas,  "  it's  time  you  were  pulling  your- 
self together.  Your  toggery  is  all  crushed,  and  you  have 
no  more  pride  in  it  than  if  it  was  made  of  tow-cloth. 
Get  up." 

She  started,  but  staggered  a  few  paces,  and  sank  down 
again. 

"Get  up." 

This  time  the  order  was  enforced  with  his  foot. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Thomas,  I  can't  go  on  again  to-night.  I  am 
sick.  I  couldn't  balance  myself  a  moment." 

There  was  a  coarse  laugh  beside  her. 

"  Well,  you  can  put  on  airs,  Miss ! "  said  Rose  De  Vere, 
sharply. 

"None  of  this!  There's  a  call.  They  won't  put  up  with 
any  nonsense.  Get  up,  I  say." 

There  was  a  whistling  in  the  gallery,  and  calls  of  various 
kinds. 

Titania  made  an  effort,  but  her  face  was  ghastly,  and 
her  hands  icy  cold,  stiff,  as  if  frozen. 

"  Here,  some  of  you,  can't  you  put  a  bit  of  red  in  her 
cheeks.  And  take  a  mouthful  of  this,"  handing  her  his 
flask. 

She  shrank  back,  disgusted.  Rose  De  Vere  came  forward 
with  a  saucer  of  rouge  and  a  puff. 

"  I'll  make  you  pretty  for  once.  This  is  all  airs,  you 
know.  You  think  you're  a  little  too  good,  —  hear  the 
stamping,  my  darling!"  said  Rose,  mockingly. 

Thomas  uttered  a  furious  oath,  and  took  her  by  the 
shoulder,  starting  her  on  a  run. 

"  Look  here,"  he  cried,  "  you  dare  to  fail,  and  I'll  beat 
you  black  and  blue !  There  won't  be  a  whole  bone  left  in 
your  body ! " 

Rose  watched  her  with  a  bitter  glow  in  her  iealous  eyes, 
that  could  be  so  pitiless. 


190  LOST  IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 

"  She'll  break  her  back  or  her  neck,  I  don't  much  care 
which,"  muttered  the  girl ;  "  she  ain't  fit  to  stand  on  no 
rope,  and  she  can't  more'n  a  minute.  But  that's  Thomas' 
look  out.  I  just  wish  he'd  have  lo  get  out  of  this.  I  don't 
like  two  masters.  How  they  do  clap !  Well,  they  won't 
clap  long,  or  I'll  miss  rny  guess.  If  this  thing  goes  on  I'll 
quit.  I  won't  have  any  one  but  Lily  a  sharin'  honors  with 
me,  as  King  '11  find  out  afore  he's  much  older." 

Titania  saw  only  a  confused  glimmer  before  her,  though 
the  applause  that  greeted  her  seemed  like  a  crash  of 
thunder  to  her  poor,  strained  ears.  She  essayed  to  balance 
herself,  and  came  down.  Thomas  darted  forward,  picked 
her  up,  and  breathed  a  fearful  imprecation  to  inspire  her. 
The  audience  looked  on  curiously,  and  a  daring  voice 
uttered  a  hiss.  It  nerved  her  with  desperation.  A  few 
wild,  irregular  motions,  and  then  it  seemed  to  her  that  the 
building  fell,  and  she  was  buried  in  the  crash. 

This  time  she  was  insensible.  They  carried  her  off,  a 
poor,  thin,  dead-looking  child,  and  laid  her  on  a  heap  of 
stage  belongings.  Thomas  swore  and  blustered,  and  forced 
some  brandy  down  her  throat. 

"  Oh,  she  isn't  dead,  is  she  ?  "  cried  Lily,  touched  by  the 
pitiful  picture. 

"  If  she's  shamming  she'll  pay  for  it,"  was  the  cruel  re- 
joinder. 

The  mob  in  the  gallery  were  making  themselves  heard. 
They  were  not  going  to  be  deprived  of  five  minutes'  amuse- 
ment if  Queen  Titania  lay  dying.  They  had  paid  their 
money  — 

u  Rose,  give  them  a  break-down ! "  cried  King.  "  Here, 
I'll  announce  you."  Then  to  Thomas :  "  She  won't  be  fit 
to  go  on  again  to-night." 

Mr.  King  appeared  before  his  audience,  and  was  received 
with  the  lowering  disrespect  of  the  mob.  He  regretted  to 
announce  that  Queen  Titania  had  been  seized  with  a  sud- 
den indisposition,  and  would  be  unable  to  finish  her  per- 


WE   ABE  SO  TIRED,   MY   HEART   AND   I.  191 

formance ;  but  she  would  appear  as  usual  to-morrow 
evening.  Miss  Rose  De  Vere  would  favor  the  audience 
with  one  of  her  inimitable  dances. 

So  the  favorite,  Rose,  danced  with  a  good  will,  since  it 
seemed,  almost,  as  if  she  was  dancing  on  her  rival's  grave. 
Cruel,  you  say  ?  But  there  are  women  who  would  some- 
times be  glad  to  bury  a  rival  out  of  sight  with  less  cause 
than  this  selfish  Rose  De  Vere. 

They  carried  Titania  to  the  comfortless  boarding-house 
and  laid  her  on  the  bed.  Then  a  doctor  was  sent  for,  who 
declared  the  child  in  a  fever,  left  a  potion,  and  promised 
to  drop  in  the  next  morning. 

Poor  little  waif!  Hard  work,  poor  diet,  exhaustion, 
friendlessness,  and  terror  had  done  their  worst.  Day  after 
day  she  tossed  in  a  burning  fever,  uttering  pitiful,  plead- 
ing cries  that  would  have  moved  almost  any  heart ;  but  the 
landlady  was  too  busy,  the  Misses  De  Vere  had  their  own 
affairs,  which  were  of  much  more  importance.  Indeed, 
after  two  days  they  had  threatened  to  find  a  new  boarding- 
house,  as  they  did  not  consider  it  prudent  to  stay  in  the 
room  with  a  fever  case.  So  Titania  was  thrust  in  a  sort  of 
store-room,  and  left  mostly  alone ;  but  she  was  not  sensible 
of  the  neglect.  As  for  Owen  Thomas,  he  fretted  and  fumed, 
and  cursed  his  luck,  at  the  expenses  that  were  going  on, 
and  the  profits  that  had  come  to  a  stand-still. 

"  The  child  ought  to  go  to  a  hospital,"  the  doctor  said, 
one  morning.  "  She  cannot  be  made  comfortable  here, 
and  she  needs  a  regular  nurse.  The  worst  of  the  fever  is 
over,  but  it  will  be  a  lingering  case,  and  I  am  afraid  her 
spine  has  been  seriously  injured,  she  complains  so  much  of 
her  back.  What  kind  of  a  fall  did  she  have  on  that  last 
evening  ?  " 

Thomas  declared  that  it  could  not  have  been  serious ;  it 
was  from  no  great  height.  She  had  had  worse  falls,  and 
only  laughed  at  them. 

"Her  days   of   acrobatic  performing   are  about  over," 


192  LOST  IN   A  GREAT  CITY. 

was  the  reply.  "  It  will  take  her  a  year  or  two  to  recover, 
if,  indeed,  she  ever  does.  A  delicate  little  girl  like  this, 
especially  while  growing,  should  not  be  subjected  to  such 
severe  strains.  It  is  cruel,  inhuman.  Is  she  your  child  ?" 

"  Only  a  hired  performer.  She  has  been  brought  up  to 
the  business.  If  I  had  not  hired  her,  some  one  else 
would." 

That  was  the  substance  of  Owen  Thomas  defence. 

"  Has  the  child  no  relatives,  no  friends?" 

Thomas  told  all  of  her  story  that  he  knew.  She  was 
supposed  to  be  the  child  of  one  Barretti,  an  acrobat  of 
note.  He  was  dead,  and  his  wife  had  married  again,  and 
hired  out  the  child. 

The  doctor  sighed.  He  was  not  a  sentimental  man,  and 
Titania,  wan  and  wasted,  would  scarcely  have  stirred  any 
one's  heart  by  her  beauty.  But  he  thought  she  ought  to 
be  snatched  out  of  this  life ;  at  all  events  she  had  better 
go  to  some  place  where  quiet  and  cleanliness  reigned. 

"  I  will  try  to  get  her  into  a  hospital,  then.  Shall  it  be 
as  a  paid  patient?" 

Thomas  uttered  an  oath. 

"  I've  nothing  to  pay  with,"  he  returned  angrily.  "  I've 
had  trouble  enough  with  her  already.  If  you  want  to  send 
to  Chippenham's  agent  I'll  give  you  the  address.  I'll 
throw  up  my  engagement,  and  write  this  very  day.  We'll 
see  whether  Chip  '11  be  so  high  and  mighty.  The  young 
'un  never  was  worth  half  what  I've  paid  for  her." 

Mr.  Roberts  was  duly  notified.  The  abrupt  termination 
of  his  promising  engagement  drove  Thomas  to  the  next 
lower  round  of  drink  and  degradation.  Luck  had  turned 
against  him,  and  for  a  few  weeks  he  rendered  the  life  of 
his  poor,  patient  helpmeet  almost  unendurable,  when  he 
was  offered  a  position  with  a  travelling  show. 

Meanwhile,  after  another  wearing  week,  Titania  was  taken 
to  a  hospital.  The  fever  lingered,  though  not  in  great 
violence,  but  much  of  the  time  her  mind  was  wandering. 


WE   ARE   SO  TIRED,  MY   HEART    AND    I.  193 

But  oh  how  grateful  seemed  the  clean  pallet,  the  cool, 
sweet  linen,  the  airy  room !  No  noisy  whistling  or  singing 
of  street  songs,  no  clatter  up  and  down,  no  incessant  buzz 
of  machinery,  shrieks  of  steam,  and  clang  of  bells. 

She  lay  there  day  after  day  in  a  kind  of  dreamy  con- 
tent. After  a  while  the  old  stage  scenes  and  associations 
must  Inevitably  return,  but  now  it  was  the  peace  and  beati- 
tude of  heaven.  All  she  could  do  was  to  enjoy  it  with 
such  a  grateful  heart  that  the  angels  themselves  must 
have  smiled  over  her. 

Certain  other  events  in  her  destiny  went  on.  Owen 
Thomas  dropped  out  of  her  life  unknowingly.  Roberts 
came  to  satisfy  himself,  breathing  threats  of  a  suit  for 
damages,  and  found  that  there  really  was  no  proof  that 
the  child  had  been  injured  by  the  fall,  or  beaten,  or  any- 
thing that  could  stir  up  sentimental  sympathy  in  a  court- 
room. Of  the  finer  murder  by  inches  the  law  takes  no 
cognizance.  King  attested  that  the  child  was  well  treated, 
so  far  as  he  knew ;  Rose  De  Vere  declared  her  an  obstinate 
little  thing ;  Mrs.  Sims,  the  landlady,  said  there  was  always 
enough  for  her  to  eat,  —  none  of  her  boarders  found  fault 
with  her  table,  —  but  the  child  seemed  very  "  finicky," 
whatever  that  meant.  The  hospital  doctor  inveighed  bit- 
terly against  the  practice  of  training  young  children  for 
such  dangerous  performances,  and  said  the  little  girl  would 
never  be  fit  for  it  again  ;  that  it  was  an  outrage  on  human- 
ity, and  a  stop  ought  to  be  put  to  it  by  the  strong  hand  of 
the  law.  The  evening  paper  at  L ,  which  was  consid- 
ered the  best  authority  in  town,  had  a  warm  and  denuncia- 
tory article  on  the  subject,  and  called  upon  public  sentiment 
to  put  an  end  to  this  slaughter  of  the  innocents.  Then 
the  ripple  blew  over,  and  the  Odeon's  next  acrobat  was  a 
wonderful  little  boy,  who  quite  distanced  Queen  Titania. 

Poor  Queenie !  Mr.  Roberts  wrote  to  her  owners,  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Chippenham.  He  really,  when  it  came  to  that, 
13 


194  LOST    IN    A    GREAT    CITY. 

you  know,  had  no  special  instructions  on  the  subject,  and 
there  was  no  money  to  take  care  of  the  child,  and  so  on. 

So  Queenie  lingered  in  the  hospital,  a  grateful  little  girl. 
They  had  cut  off  her  beautiful  hair,  and  it  was  now  a  crop 
of  short  curls  around  her  baby  face,  so  white  and  wan. 
But  the  hospital  was  crowded,  and  she  was  sent  to  the 
Home  of  the  Friendless,  as  a  temporary  expedient.  She 
was  not  strong,  and  the  least  exertion  tired  her  all  out  of 
breath.  She  had  known  so  little  of  unrestrained  child- 
hood that  she  had  no  desire  to  join  the  noisy  plays,  and 
rather  rude  diversions.  She  liked  to  creep  away  by  her- 
self, and  wonder  about  her  dead  mamma  and  Dick  Bridger. 
Where  were  they  ?  And  was  Maggie  dead,  too  ? 

There  had  been  so  many  changes  in  her  life,  such  a 
series  of  abrupt  and  unexpected  incidents,  that  she  was 
like  a  little  stray  bark  at  sea ;  out  of  sight  of  the  de- 
sired haven.  She  really  hoped  or  expected  nothing.  The 
strong,  natural  buoyancy  of  childhood  had  been  wrenched 
up  by  the  roots.  She  hardly  counted  on  Kate,  now,  and 
had  forgotten  her  exact  address.  Yet  she  wrote  to  Paris, 
at  a  venture,  and  waited  in  a  kind  of  sad,  pitiful  apathy. 
Something  would  come  —  happiness  was  so  strange  a  thing 
that  she  did  not  pray  for  it.  Indeed,  she  had  lost  faith  in 
God.  Sad,  sad  truth  I 


MOVING    ON   TO    THE   NEXT.  195 


CHAPTER  XVIL 

MOVING   ON   TO   THE   NEXT. 

AN  elegant  carriage  drew  up  before  the  « Institution." 
It  had  once  been  quite  a  grand  old  country  house,  with  a 
sloping  lawn  in  front,  and  great  wide-spread  elms  for  sen- 
tinels. The  time  was  July,  a  midsummer  afternoon. 

Two  ladies  alighted,  and  sauntered  up  the  walk.  A  few 
groups  of  children  at  play  eyed  them  askance.  There  was 
a  wide,  shady  porch,  and  on  this  the  lady  patroness  mo- 
tioned the  guest  to  a  seat. 

"  Ask  the  matron  to  come  out  here,"  was  the  dignified 
request,  something  in  the  order  of  command.  Then  to  her 
companion,  "  It  is  so  much  pleasanter  here.  These  places 
invariably  have  a  stuffy,  disagreeable  air  to  me,  and  the 
parlors  are  always  gloomy.  Ah,  here  comes  Mrs.  Post. 
This  is  my  friend  Mrs.  Winstead,  Mrs.  Post." 

The  guest  bowed  haughtily,  and  shook  the  perfumes  of 
Orient  out  of  her  India  carriage-shawl,  and  sandal-wood 
fan.  A  woman,  neither  young  nor  handsome,  and  with  an 
insufferable  air  of  pride.  The  lady  patroness  was  airy  and 
stylish,  but  more  approachable. 

"  We  have  come  on  quite  a  business  matter,"  explained 
Mrs.  Gaylord.  "I  have  almost  talked  Mrs.  Winstead  into 
taking  one  of  our  little  waifs.  The  good  Lord  does  put  it 
in  some  one's  heart  now  and  then  to  provide  for  the  needy 
and  homeless,  and  assist  us  in  our  great  and  charitable 
work.  Let  us  see  some  of  your  nicest  little  girls,  Mrs. 
Post.  This  lady  wants  one  who  is  capable  of  being  trained 
into  a  waiting-maid  for  her  daughter.  She  will  have  one 
of  the  best  of  homes." 


196  LOST   IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 

Mrs.  Gaylord  spoke  as  if  she  were  conferring  a  great 
favor  on  Mrs.  Post ;  but  the  matron  was  quite  used  to  this 
sort  of  patronage. 

u  Kitty."  she  called  to  one  of  the  girls,  who  shyly  obeyed 
the  summons,  "  will  you  see  that  Laura  and  Molly,  and 
that  pale  little  Annie  are  put  in  order,  and  sent  here  ?  " 

Some  moments  elapsed,  while  the  three  ladies  conversed 
about  the  Institution  and  its  workings,  the  waifs  and  strays 
who  had  found  shelter  and  homes.  Then  there  was  a  mys- 
terious little  cough  in  the  hall.  Mrs.  Post  rose. 

"  This  is  Laura  Smith,"  she  began,  presenting  a  bright, 
black-eyed  child.  u  She  is  eleven,  and  an  orphan ;  a  quick, 
apt  scholar,  with  quite  a  fancy  for  the  needle.  I  think  she 
could  be  trained  into  a  very  useful  little  hand-maiden. 
And  this  is  Molly  Benson  —  we  have  four  Marys,"  and 
Mrs.  Post  smiled.  "  Where  is  Annie,  Laura  ?  " 

"  Getting  washed  and  brushed,"  responded  Laura, 
promptly. 

u  Molly  would  make  a  very  good  waitress,  I  think ;  oh, 
and  here  is  Annie ! n 

A  pale,  slender  little  girl,  with  curling  golden  hair,  and 
large  brown  eyes.  She  was  neither  shy  nor  over  bold. 

"  This  child  has  had  quite  a  romantic  history,  but  she 
has  neither  parent  nor  friends,  I  believe.  She  came  here 
from  the  hospital,  in  June ;  and  though  she  looks  delicate, 
is  quite  strong  now." 

Mrs.  Winstead  drew  her  brows  a  little.  What  right  had 
this  street  waif  to  such  a  faultless  complexion,  such  large, 
wonderful  eyes,  and  above  all  to  hair  of  that  peculiar  tint 
and  fineness ! 

M I  have  felt  that  this  child  ought  to  be  adopted  by  some 
one,"  said  Mrs.  Post.  "I  suppose  there  are  people  who 
would  be  very  glad  to  get  her." 

Mrs.  Winstead  studied  the  slender  little  thing.  Her 
creed  was  that  no  child  or  woman,  except  those  with  un- 
limited money  in  their  purses,  and  blue  blood  in  their 


MOVING  ON  TO  THE  NEXT.          197 

veins,  should  be  the  possessor  of  a  tithe  of  beauty.  That 
should  be  reserved,  as  an  inalienable  birthright,  for  the 
higher  classes.  If  she  had  made  the  world  there  would 
be  none  of  these  stupid  mistakes !  The  working  classes 
should  carry  the  sign  manual  on  their  foreheads. 

"  Wasn't  this  the  child  Mrs.  Day  spoke  of  adopting  ?  " 

"  Yes,  but  Mr.  Day  was  very  particular  about  blue  eyes. 
She  was  so  sorry." 

"  I  think  those  quiet  looking  children  are  either  stolid 
or  have  very  bad  tempers,"  said  Mrs.  Winstead. 

"  I  can  assure  you  Annie  is  neither,"  Mrs.  Post  rejoined, 
warmly.  "  She  is  very  easy  to  get  along  with ;  indeed,  she 
is  just  the  child  to  be  adopted  into  a  pleasant  home." 

Mrs.  Winstead  thought  of  the  possibility  of  some  one 
adopting  her,  educating  her,  bringing  her  up  to  be  a  lady, 
and  her  marrying  in  the  charmed  circle.  There  was  an 
air  of  what  would  be  called  birth  and  refinement  about 
her,  and  girls  of  this  stamp  always  were  ambitious.  Would 
it  not  be  a  mercy  for  her  to  be  strictly  reared  —  made  to 
know  her  place  from  the  outset  ? 

It  was  curious  that  she  should  dislike  the  child,  and  yet 
almost  desire  her.  Indeed,  when  it  came  to  that,  why 
would  not  this  child  do  as  well  as  any  other?  She  would 
risk  training  her. 

"  Can  you  assure  me  that  she  is  perfectly  honest  and 
truthful  ?  "  she  asked,  quite  sharply. 

"  Annie  ?     Oh,  yes." 

"And  not  ill  tempered?  She  would  be  brought  into 
personal  contact  with  my  own  daughter,  and  I  must  have 
a  high  moral  tone.  It  is  one  of  the  things  that  I  insist 
upon  in  my  household,"  was  the  haughty  rejoinder. 

"  She  is  a  very  good  little  girl.  Still  you  might  like 
Laura  better.  She  would  be  more  amusing." 

"  I  do  not  desire  her  for  amusement,"  said  the  lady, 
stiffly.  "  Her  chief  duty  would  be  to  wait  upon  my 
daughter,  to  learn  to  sew,  and  as  she  grew  older  to  attend 


198  LOST  IN   A    GREAT    CITY. 

to  the  finer  part  of  laundry  work,  laces,  and  so  on ;  in  shorty 
I  should  bring  her  up  for  a  lady's  maid. 

Mrs.  Gaylord  interposed  with  her  flowery  adornments  of 
speech.  The  poor  little  thing  would  have  such  an  excel- 
lent home,  really,  it  was  one  chance  out  of  a  thousand; 
and  it  was  so  much  better  that  these  poor  waifs  should  be 
put  in  a  way  of  earning  a  living  in  an  honest,  respectable 
manner;  and  a  great  deal  about  the  beauty  and  delight 
of  charity,  in  a  glowing,  sentimental  way,  as  if  Mrs. 
Winstead,  in  her  generosity,  would  give  everything,  and 
the  child  would  be  the  recipient  of  boundless  blessings. 

There  followed  some  questions  as  to  the  child's  age  and 
former  life.  Mrs.  Post  answered  briefly  that  her  parents 
were  dead,  that  she  had  been  taken  by  a  family  where  the 
gentleman  had  died,  and  his  wife  married  again,  that  she 
had  been  sick  in  a  hospital,  and  from  thence  transferred 
to  the  Home.  Twice  before  she  had  stated  frankly  that 
the  child  had  been  a  stage  performer,  at  which  her  would- 
be  patrons  had  shrunk  in  dismay.  No,  they  could  not 
think  of  taking  such  associations  into  pure  homes.  So  it 
was  wisest,  she  thought,  not  to  mention  it  if  it  was  to  stand 
in  the  way  of  her  advancement.  Mrs.  Gaylord  was  igno- 
rant of  her  antecedents.  Mrs.  Post  had  given  her  the 
name  of  Annie,  in  place  of  the  stage  name  grown  so  sadly 
familiar,  "  Queenie."  Dick  Bridger's  pet  appellation  was 
too  tender  and  endearing  to  be  used  by  strangers. 

Mrs.  Post  placed  very  little  reliance  on  the  Chippenham 
interest.  It  appeared  to  her  that  when  the  child  ceased  to 
be  pecuniarily  profitable  they  would  be  glad  to  throw  her 
off,  as  a  burden.  Titania  shrank  from  the  old  life,  and  the 
kind-hearted  matron  felt  that  it  was,  indeed,  a  terrible 
destiny  for  womanhood.  She  hoped  that  some  affection- 
ate household  would  adopt  her,  and  she  was  not  prepos- 
sessed in  Mrs.  Winstead's  favor. 

"  It  might  be  better  to  have  a  stronger  child  for  that  pur 
pose,"  began  the  matron. 


MOVING  ON  TO  THE  NEXT.          199 

"  Any  child  is  strong  enough  to  run  up  and  down  stairs 
with  a  message,  or  carry  a  shawl,"  said  that  lady,  disdain- 
fully. "  There  is  too  much  sentimental  charity,  nowadays, 
that  floods  the  world  with  miserable,  arrogant  servants,  and 
the  only  true  system  is  to  bring  up  these  foundling  children 
to  know  their  places,  to  make  useful  members  of  society. 
If  this  could  be  done  we  should  not  hear  so  much  of  de- 
praved women  and  outcasts." 

"  Very  true  !  too  true  ! "  fluttered  Mrs.  Gaylord,  with  up- 
lifted hands  and  heavenward  eyes. 

Mrs.  Winstead  decided  in  her  mind  to  take  that  particu- 
lar child.  She  held  a  curious  spite  against  her  because 
she  dared  to  be  beautiful,  —  as  if  it  was  some  acquired  fault 
of  her  own.  There  would  be  no  foolish  nonsense  in  her 
training. 

"  I  will  consider  the  subject,  and  decide,"  the  lady  an- 
nounced, loftily. 

"  You  might  try  her,"  insisted  Mrs.  Gaylord.  "  You 
can  take  her  for  a  month,  and  return  her  if  she  should  not 
suit." 

"  I  never  act  upon  a  hasty  resolve,"  said  Mrs.  Winstead, 
with  the  air  of  an  empress,  as  she  swept  down  the  steps. 

"I  wish  she  would  take  Laura  or  Molly,"  commented 
Mrs.  Post. 

"Will  I  have  to  go  with  her?"  questioned  the  child. 
"  Can't  I  wait  and  see  if  Kate  will  not  send  for  me  ?  "  and 
her  pathetic  eyes  filled  with  tears. 

u  If  she  did  send  I  would  be  sure  to  let  you  know.  I  do 
not  take  much  of  a  fancy  to  Mrs.  Winstead,  myself,  yet  I 
am  not  sure  but  it  would  be  better  than  going  out  as  a 
nurse  girl,  and  dragging  a  baby  about.  You  don't  look 
strong  enough  for  such  work." 

They  heard  nothing  for  two  days.  Some  new  children 
were  admitted,  and  the  accommodations  were  much 
straitened,  it  must  be  confessed.  When  the  two  ladies  re- 
appeared there  was  no  reason  to  urge  why  Titania  should 


200  LOST  IN  A   GREAT  CITY. 

not  go.  Mrs.  Post's  motherly  heart  might  be  large  enough 
to  keep  them  all,  but  the  purse  of  the  Home  certainly  was 
not.  Titania  said  her  good-by  with  a  strangling  sob  in  her 
throat.  Like  poor  Joe,  her  destiny  seemed  to  be  a  con- 
tinual "  moving  on." 

Mrs.  Winstead  had  her  trunk  at  the  railroad  station,  and 
went  thither  herself  with  her  little  maid.  She  allowed  her 
to  sit  in  the  seat  with  her,  and  hold  her  elegant  Russia- 
leather  satchel,  which  was  much  too  nice  to  be  put  on  the 
floor.  There  was  a  three-hours'  ride,  and  then  they 
stopped. 

Arlington  was  a  lovely,  sleepy  old  town,  famous  for  its 
blue  blood  and  aristocratic  proclivities.  It  was  disfigured 
by  no  factories,  no  shops.  The  banks  of  its  placid  river 
purled  through  greenest  vales;  its  two  old  churches  were 
ivy  grown,  and  perhaps  the  most  pretentious  thing  in  it 
was  a  Young  Ladies  Institute,  and  boarding-school.  That, 
too  was  conducted  on  extremely  exclusive  principles. 
The  Misses  Chapman  prided  themselves  upon  the  unex- 
ceptional tone  of  their  Institute,  —  which  meant  that  no 
young  lady  was  received  for  less  than  six  hundred  a  year. 

There  was  Rose  Lawn,  Heath  House,  the  Cedars,  Living- 
ston Hall,  and  so  on.  The  Winstead  place  was  called  the 
"  Oaks,"  perhaps  from  the  great  grove  of  oaks  at  the  rear. 
It  had  been  in  the  family  upwards  of  a  hundred  years,  had 
descended  to  Anthony  Wiustead  quite  heavily  mortgaged, 
and  indeed,  would  have  slipped  out  of  his  hands  but  for 
his  wife. 

She  and  her  mother  had  managed  an  imposing  position 
on  a  very  frail  tenure.  It  had  sufficed  to  launch  her  into 
matrimony.  With  the  small  amount  of  money  left  she 
had  done  some  new  furnishing,  and  then  began  a  system 
of  most  rigorous  internal  economy.  The  coachman,  and 
his  wife  Mary,  lived  at  the  Lodge,  and  Mary  was  general 
housemaid  and  cook,  except  on  extra  occasions.  One  bound 
girl  had  been  taken  in  the  house,  who,  the  day  sho  was 


MOVING  ON  TO  THE  NEXT.  201 

eighteen,  had  gone  off  joyfully  to  try  the  world  for  herself. 
There  was  a  kitchen-girl  for  the  roughest  work,  and  Mary, 
rather  proud  of  her  importance,  still  held  sway. 

The  family  consisted  of  a  son  and  a  daughter :  Archibald, 
eighteen,  and  Helena,  fifteen,  who  was  her  mother's  pride. 
Part  of  the  time  Helena  had  a  governess,  a  very  well- 
informed  widow  lady,  whose  leisure  hours  were  em- 
ployed at  dress-making,  but  who,  somehow,  had  finally 
declined  the  honor  of  living  with  "  one  of  the  first  fami- 
lies," and  being  worked  sixteen  hours  out  of  the  twenty- 
four. 

Now  Miss  Helena  was  to  take  two  more  years  of  finish- 
ing at  the  Institute,  and  the  young  man  was  to  go  to 
college.  The  financial  aspect  had  cleared  a  little  under 
Mrs.  Winstead's  thrifty  management,  but  it  was  still  sharp 
and  close.  Moreover,  she  preferred  assistants  in  this  good 
work  who  had  no  ties  in  the  town,  and  no  right  to  go  out 
for  a  bit  of  gossip. 

The  carriage  was  in  waiting.  Sam  touched  his  hat  to 
his  mistress,  and  helped  her  in  with  a  flourish,  then  looked 
oddly  at  the  child. 

"  She  will  go  home  with  me,"  said  Titania's  new  mis- 
tress. 

It  was  not  much  of  a  ride.  They  drove  up  the  broad 
avenue,  under  the  arching  trees.  The  grass  was  like  vel- 
vet. Beds  of  flowers  and  leaf  plants  were  cut  here  and 
there,  in  a  tiny  star  or  circle.  A  great,  white  vase,  full  of 
creepers  and  brilliant  scarlet  bloom  stood  on  one  side  oi 
the  portico.  A  flight  of  broad  steps  led  to  the  entrance. 

Titania  paused,  and  drew  a  long  breath,  the  beauty  and 
order  filling  her  heart  with  a  strange  sense  of  exaltation. 
Was  this  really  to  be  her  home  ?  This  pure,  sweet  air ;  this 
glory  of  sun,  and  cool,  green  depths  of  shade;  this  affluence 
of  light,  and  color,  and  harmony !  It  struck  home  to  her 
with  such  an  overwhelming  sense  of  deliciousness  that  she 
could  only  look  and  breathe. 


202  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

**  Follow  me,"  said  her  mistress,  sternly.  tt  Ah,  Mary, 
how  do  you  do  ?  Where  are  the  family  ?  " 

"  A  thousand  welcomes  home  !  "  and  Mary  courtesied. 
"  The  young  people  have  gone  to  a  croquet  party,  ma'am, 
and  the  master  —  " 

At  that  instant  Mr.  Winstead  made  his  appearance.  A 
tall,  rather  spare  man,  with  an  indolent  look,  and  bearing 
in  his  face  traces  of  his  recent  nap.  He  received  his  wife 
with  a  graciously  cordial  air,  and  made  polite  inquiries  con- 
cerning her  journey,  her  friends,  commented  on  the  warmth 
of  the  weather,  and  looked  askance  at  the  child,  until  cu- 
riosity could  no  longer  be  repressed. 

"  Why,  what  have  you  brought  home  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  told  you  if  I  saw  a  child  to  my  fancy  I  should  take 
one,"  replied  Mrs.  Winstead;  rather  sharply.  "  Helena 
needs  some  one  to  wait  upon  her,  and  so,  for  that  matter, 
do  I." 

"  But  she  seems  so  small,  — so  —  w 

"There  is  room  enough  for  her  to  grow,  I  suppose. 
She  is  somewhere  about  twelve." 

"  I  was  eleven  in  May,"  said  Titania,  quietly. 

"Speak  when  you  are  spoken  to,"  was  the  brief  com- 
mand. "  That  is  certainly  old  enough  for  a  child  that  you 
desire  to  train." 

"  But  you  had  so  much  trouble  with  that  Martha,  and 
she  proved  so  ungrateful." 

"  Yes,  I  must  say  it  was  horrible  ingratitude,  when  I  had 
kept  her  through  the  most  trying  years,  and  given  her  such 
good  training,  to  go  just  when  she  was  beginning  to  be  use- 
ful. Very  few  women  would  have  the  courage  to  try  again. 
But  this  poor  thing  seemed  so  in  want  of  home  and  friends 
that  it  was  really  a  charity." 

"  Yet  she  has  a  curious  look  of  —  " 

"  Don't  begin  by  commenting  on  the  child's  appearance, 
Mr.  Winstead.  You  do  not  expect  style  and  cultivation 
in  a  street  foundling." 


MOVING  ON  TO  THE  NEXT.  203 

"But  she  has  just  that,  I  was  going  to  say"  — 

"And  I  beg  you  will  not  be  so  foolish,"  in  a  tone  of  a& 
perity  ;  "I  am  completely  tired  out.  Here,  child,  lay  my 
bonnet  on  the  bed  yonder,  and  my  shawl.  Don't  string  it 
up  in  that  careless  fashion ;  fold  it.  Lay  off  your  own  hat, 
and  then  unbutton  my  boots.  The  sooner  you  learn  your 
new  duties  the  better.  You  may  be  dismissed,"  with  a 
careless  nod  to  her  husband. 

They  had  come  up-stairs  to  Mrs.  Win  stead's  sleeping- 
room,  —  a  spacious  apartment,  handsomely  furnished  in  a 
somewhat  old-fashioned,  massive  style.  The  lighter  ap- 
pointments were  more  modern,  and  gave  it  an  air  of  grace. 

Titania  stood  quite  bewildered  by  the  strangeness,  and 
terrified  somewhat  by  the  voice  of  her  new  mistress. 

"  Do  you  hear  me  ?  Or,  first,  go  to  that  closet  yonder, 
and  in  the  box  you  will  find  a  pair  of  slippers,  —  those  with 
steel  buckles,  —  bring  them  with  you." 

Titania  found  the  slippers.  The  lady  stretched  her 
tired  feet  on  the  hassock,  and  the  little  maid  commenced 
operations.  She  had  learned  to  be  both  quick  and  deft. 

"  Now  take  these  in  the  room  there,"  nodding  toward  a 
door,  "  and  in  the  bottom  of  the  dressing-table  you  will  find 
a  cloth.  Dust  them  off  nicely,  especially  about  the  buttons. 
I  am  very  particular." 

This  was  done  with  no  blundering,  and  they  were  restored 
to  the  box.  Then  the  shawl  was  laid  in  a  drawer,  the 
gloves  and  bonnet  in  their  respective  places.  All  with  a 
quiet  movement,  and  touches  of  dexterous  grace. 

"I  was  not  wrong,"  thought  Mrs.  Winstead.  "My  in- 
tuitions seldom  deceive  me,  and  my  penetration  is  rarely 
at  fault.  Laura  looked  stronger,  but  she  would  have  been 
loud  and  aggressive,  and  this  one  can  be  kept  in  order  with 
less  trouble.  I  think  she  will  answer ;  but  I  can  take  the 
month  to  make  up  my  mind." 

"What  is  your  other  name  beside  Annie?"  the  lady 
asked  aloud. 


204  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

"  My  name  is  not  Annie  at  all,"  was  the  dignified  answer, 
*  it  is  —  Titania  Barretti." 

She  made  a  just  perceptible  pause  before  she  uttered  it, 
and  then  flushed  a  little  as  she  remembered  that  it  was  not 
her  true  name.  Mrs.  Post  had  charged  her  to  make  no 
explanations,  as  the  worthy  woman  felt  confident  the  story 
of  her  stage-life  would  be  something  of  a  stigma.  The 
Odeon,  with  its  performers  and  patrons,  was  not  in  very 
good  repute  at  L  -  .  That  her  position  had  once  been 
much  higher  never  occurred  to  Mrs.  Post. 

"What  an  outlandish  name!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Winstead, 
sneeringly.  "But  people  of  your  class  generally  do  indulge 
in  extravagant  patronymics.  I  can  have  no  such  foolishly 
romantic  names  in  my  house,  and  for  a  servant  a  good  plain 
name  is  much  the  best." 

"  A  servant  !  "  And  all  Titania's  spirit  flashed  up  in  her 
face. 

"  Do  you  suppose  I  brought  you  here  to  be  a  lady  ?  If 
so,  you  had  better  march  back  to  your  charitable  institution. 
I  am  amazed  at  you  !  " 

And  now  poor,  trembling,  flushing  Titania  was  ashamed 
of  herself,  and  sorely  bewildered.  What  right  had  anybody 
to  send  her  here  ?  And  yet  who  was  there  to  care  for  her. 
Mr*Roberts  had  said,  "Really  I  have  no  instructions  to 
do  anything  for  the  child,  and  if  she  should  never  be  strong 
enough  to  perform  again,"  —  and  the  doctor  had  answered, 
"You  may  set  your  mind  at  rest  on  that  point,  she  never 


Until  she  heard  from  Kate,  —  that  was  all  her  hope. 
And  though  the  surprised  and  indignant  blood  mounted 
her  cheek,  she  felt  so  powerless  that  her  little  hands 
dropped  by  her  side,  and  her  soft  eyes  were  downcast. 

"  Yes,  a  servant,"  continued  Mrs.  Winstead,  transfixing 
the  shild  with  her  haughty  mien  ;  "  you  may  as  well  under- 
Ptand  your  place  at  once.  I  have  brought  you  here  for  a 
waiting-maid  for  my  daughter  and  myself;  at  least  I  shall 


MOVING  ON  TO  THE  NEXT.  205 

see  if  you  have  any  aptitude  for  that  position.  You  will 
give  yourself  no  airs,  and  indulge  in  no  impertinence.  It 
is  a  thing  I  never  take  from  an  inferior.  If  you  prove  in- 
tractable, and  unworthy  of  my  benevolent  intentions,  I 
shall  send  you  back  to  that  home  of  charity  from  whence 
I  took  you,  disgraced,  yes,  absolutely  disgraced.  If  you 
suit  me  you  may  have  a  home  for  years.  But  I  will  have 
no  foolishness." 

Titania  was  silent.  The  whole  world  seemed  to  revolve 
about  her,  and  the  events  of  her  life  were  mingled  in  such 
grotesque  succession  that  she  felt  herself  helpless  to  evolve 
but  one  idea,  —  in  August  Kate  would  send  for  her.  She 
would  live  until  then,  get  over  the  weary  days  and  nights 
in  any  fashion,  —  what  did  it  matter.  This  would  be  better 
than  her  life  with  that  horrible  drunken  Thomas. 

"  And  now  you  must  have  a  decent,  appropriate  name. 
That  fantastical  thing  shall  never  be  uttered  in  my  pres- 
ence. Let  me  see  — Jane  will  do,  I  think.  Jane  is  a  good, 
strong  name,  and  short,  and  just  the  thing  for  a  person  in 
your  station.  Jane  Barrett,  that  will  do  very  well.  Now, 
Jane,  follow  me  to  the  kitchen,  and  I  will  endeavor  to 
explain  your  new  life  to  you.  I  am  very  particular  and 
systematic,  and  there  is  nothing  like  making  a  good  be- 
ginning." 

While  Mrs.  Winstead  was  talking  she  had  divested  her- 
self of  her  travelling  attire,  and  donned  an  elegant  white 
wrapper,  that  was  a  mass  of  puffs  and  frills,  and  whose 
snowy  train  floated  around  her.  Motioning  to  Titania 
she  led  the  way  through  the  spacious  hall,  down  the  wide 
stairway,  and  opening  a  door  at  the  back  of  the  lower 
hall  they  descended  another  stairway.  The  house  stood 
on  a  slight  eminence,  and  the  kitchen  was  at  the  back, 
quite  out  of  sight,  a  sort  of  basement.  It  was  here  that 
Mary  reigned,  with  her  factotum  Hannah. 

It  was  large,  clean,  and  convenient,  and  the  floor  had 
a  refreshing,  newly-scrubbed  appearance.  Mrs.  Winstead 


206  LOST   IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 

gave  a  sharp  glance  around,  opened  a  closet  door,  and 
peered  in,  examined  the  sink,  and  then  turned  to  Mary. 

u  Really,  you  have  the  place  in  quite  decent  order,"  she 
said,  though  it  seemed  unwilling  praise.  "  I  hope  you 
have  kept  everything  else  right,  and  did  you  pay  attention 
to  the  accounts,  as  I  requested  ?  Has  Hannah  made  her- 
self useful  ?  Nothing  is  so  discouraging  as  for  the  mis- 
tress of  a  house  to  come  home  and  find  such  painful  evi- 
dences of  heedlessness  and  incompetency,  as  is  too  often 
the  case." 

"Indeed,  I've  tried  my  very  best,  ma'am,  and  I  think 
you'll  find  nothing  wrong.  Here's  the  'counts,  ma'am," 
and  Mary  brought  out  her  big  kitchen-book. 

"  Accounts,  Mary.  How  often  have  I  told  you  that  such 
things  betray  a  gross  ignorance.  If,  for  a  moment,  you  ob- 
serve the  habits  of  cultivated  people,  and  certainly  every 
servant  who  has  the  privilege  of  living  with  a  refined 
family  should,  you  will  see  they  never  indulge  in  such 
elisions." 

"Excuse  me,  ma'am,"  said  Mary,  making  a  profound 
courtesy. 

The  lady  examined  the  book,  found  fault  with  a  few 
items,  —  it  was  an  article  of  Mrs.  Winstead's  creed  that 
unqualified  praise  demoralized  servants,  and  destroyed  au- 
thority. 

"  And  you  had  a  pleasant  time,  ma'am,"  Mary  ventured, 
when  she  found  that  her  mistress  was  in  quite  a  placable 
mood. 

"Very  fair,  considering  the  warm  weather,  and  every- 
thing. Of  course  I  should  not  have  gone  to  the  city  in 
the  heat  of  midsummer  if  Mrs.  Gaylord  had  not  so  insisted 
upon  it,  and  made  arrangements  to  leave  for  Europe  so 
soon.  And  she  over-persuaded  me  into  a  rather  foolish 
step,  I  am  afraid,  although  I  have  not  taken  it  irrevocably. 
I  did  mean  some  time  to  look  for  a  little  girl  who  could  be 
brought  up  as  Miss  Helena's  maid,  but  Mrs.  Gaylord  was 


MOVING  ON  TO  THE  NEXT.  207 

deeply  interested  in  a  charitable  institution,  and  induced 
me  to  visit  the  place,  and  once  there  the  sight  appealed  so 
to  my  finer  feeling.  There  were  waifs  and  strays  with  no 
homes  and  no  friends,  the  class,  which,  if  neglected,  forms 
so  large  a  part  of  our  dangerous  population,  and  fills  our 
prisons.  And  so  I  took  this  little  thing  out  of  pure  char- 
ity. She  had  been  ill  in  a  hospital  before  she  was  sent 
there." 

"  And  she's  but  a  slender  slip  now,"  added  Mary,  eying 
the  child  rather  distrustfully. 

"  Yes.  I  shall  keep  her  a  month,  and  see  how  I  like  her. 
It  depends  upon  her  good  behavior  whether  she  has  a 
pleasant  and  easy  home,  or  whether  she  must  go  drifting 
round  the  world.  Her  name  is  Jane  Barrett.  Jane,  this 
is  Mary,  my  housekeeper,  and  this  is  Hannah.  I  shall  want 
to  send  you  up  and  down  stairs  now  and  then,  and  you 
will  know  where  to  come." 

The  child  bowed  with  a  proud,  instinctive  grace,  that 
rather  shocked  her  mistress. 

"  I  hope  she'll  suit,  and  that  you'll  have  no  trouble  with 
her,  but  she  looks  weakly,  like." 

"  How  could  you  expect  them  to  look  any  better,  poor 
half-starved  things,  living  in  such  miserable  holes  as  the 
most  of  them  do !  It  is  a  great  charity  to  snatch  them 
from  that  terrible  life.  Now,  Jane,  we  will  go  up-stairs 
again.  There  will  be  no  one  at  dinner  but  Mr.  Winstead 
and  myself." 

Mary  understood  what  that  meant.  The  table  would  be 
as  elegantly  set,  and  the  meal  served  with  due  ceremony, 
but  there  would  be  no  needless  expense  in  the  viands.  The 
meat  might  be  divided  for  the  next  morning's  breakfast. 

Then  Jane  was  introduced  to  the  third  floor.  There 
was  an  old-fashioned  double-pitched  roof  on  the  house. 
Two  very  nice,  spacious  sleeping-rooms,  a  store-room,  and 
a  smaller  chamber,  with  a  very  plain  bedstead  and  wash- 
stand. 


208  LOST   IN   A  GREAT  CITY. 

tt  This  will  be  your  room.  Hannah  sleeps  at  the  Lodge, 
with  Mary.  I  have  a  great  objection  to  servants  staying 
in  the  house  all  night,  unless  they  are  particularly  needed." 

Then  they  turned  to  Mrs.  Winstead's  apartment,  and 
the  little  handmaiden  underwent  a  rigorous  examination. 
Could  she  dust  a  room,  or  sew,  or  iron,  or  make  herself 
useful  in  any  way?  Why,  what  a  poor,  helpless  little 
thing  she  was !  Of  course  she  knew  nothing  about  wait- 
ing on  a  table,  she  had  probably  never  seen  a  decent  table 
in  her  life. 

Barretti's  little  queen  preserved  a  discreet  silence.  After 
all  it  would  be  only  for  a  few  weeks.  But  she  cried  her- 
self to  sleep  that  night  with  a  sad,  lonely  feeling,  a  despair 
pitiful  in  one  BO  young. 


PALACE   OB   PRISON.  209 


CHAPTER  XVIIL 

PALACE    OB   PRISON. 

QUEEN  TITANIA  found  her  palace  not  far  from  a  prison, 
and  her  life  one  of  intolerable  slavery.  Miss  Helena  was 
more  consequential  than  her  mother,  and  quite  as  rigorous. 
Not  a  moment  in  the  day  was  she  allowed  to  be  idle.  Mrs. 
Winstead  soon  saw  that  she  possessed  an  unusual  aptitude 
for  acquiring  anything  about  which  there  was  room  for  the 
slightest  grace.  She  could  wait  upon  the  table,  usher  vis- 
itors into  a  room,  carry  a  shawl  and  fan,  and  run  of  errands, 
—  and  she  was  so  quiet. 

Mary  inclined  to  the  opinion  that  she  was  a  rather  sul- 
len little  thing.  Her  visits  to  the  kitchen  were  very  brief, 
except  when  she  came  for  her  meals. 

,The  new  existence  bewildered  Titania.  It  appeared  first 
like  the  mimic  life  of  the  stage,  and  had  for  her  the  same 
unreal  air.  She  could  not  understand  how  she  had  drifted 
into  it,  although  the  few  surface  facts  were  easy  enough 
of  comprehension.  There  had  been  no  one  to  take  care 
of  her ;  and,  beside,  not  being  strong  enough  to  endure  her 
former  life  she  shrank  from  it  now  with  a  deadly  horror. 
She  felt  within  herself  the  instinct  of  hiding,  like  some 
poor  hunted  animal.  But  that  she  should  be  here  com- 
pelled to  menial  occupations,  ordered  to  fetch  and  carry 
like  a  dog,  taunted  with  being  an  object  of  charity,  listen- 
ing occasionally  when  Mrs.  Winstead  explained  to  her 
friends  how  her  sympathies  had  been  touched,  how  she  had 
burdened  herself  with  a  child  who  could  be  of  very  little 
use  for  a  year  or  two  to  come ;  but  when  one  saw  these 
14 


210  LOST  IN  A  GREAT   CITY. 

countless  waifs  in  great  cities  one  longed  to  reach  out  a 
helping  hand,  and  save  them  from  lives  of  infamy. 

Titania's  blood  rose  hot  within  her  at  these  wordy  false- 
hoods. Was  she  not  giving  her  daily  toil  for  the  plain 
attic,  and  common  fare  ?  For,  however  elegant  the  table 
might  be  in  the  dining-room  its  luxuries  did  not  descend  to 
the-  kitchen.  The  choice  desserts  and  fruits,  the  savory 
meats,  were  set  aside.  Mrs.  Winstead  certainly  had  made 
management  a  fine  art.  She  and  her  daughter  went  clad 
in  silks  and  laces,  the  table  was  a  picture,  with  its  choice 
and  costly  appointments  and  dainty  fare,  but  the  thrift 
back  of  it  all  was  surprising.  Not  a  pin  was  wasted.  Not 
a  crumb  that  could  be  turned  into  anything  else  was  thrown 
away.  No  idleness  was  tolerated  in  a  dependent. 

And  yet,  in  spite  of  the  drawbacks,  Titania  almost  rev- 
elled in  a  sense  of  beauty.  The  old  town  was  so  lovely, 
even  when  she  walked  behind  Miss  Helena,  carrying  bas- 
ket, or  satchel,  or  shawl.  The  house  and  grounds,  the 
furniture,  carpets,  and  pictures,  were  each  a  revelation  in 
themselves.  She  drank  in  the  refinement,  the  harmony, 
the  culture,  with  the  eagerness  of  a  thirsty  traveller.  She 
had  enjoyed  a  certain  luxurious  life  with  Kate,  but  that 
had  been  tinctured  with  vulgarity,  and  lacked  the  fine 
adjustments.  This  was  intensely  selfish  in  many  points, 
and  they  would  gladly  have  crowded  her  out  of  the 
sesthetical  side  if  they  could,  but  she  kept  these  dreams 
of  delight  closely  within  her  heart,  and  waited.  She  had 
needed  so  much  patience  in  her  short  life  1 

Beside  the  overbearing  authority  of  the  women  she  was 
tormented  with  a  covert  insolence  and  cruelty  from  Mr. 
Archie,  the  son  of  the  house.  He  liked  to  tease  her,  just 
as  he  teased  the  cat  and  the  dog ;  nay,  it  was  more  amuse- 
ment, because  he  could  rouse  her  soul,  startle  her  into  some 
demonstration  of  impatience  or  anger.  Not  often,  it  was 
true.  She  feared  him,  and  sought  shelter  under  his  moth- 
er's wing,  where  she  knew  he  would  not  dare  molest  her. 


PALACE   OB   PRISON.  211 

So  passed  away  a  month.  Regular  living  and  whole- 
some sleep  began  to  show  their  beneficial  effects.  The 
wan  face  filled  out,  and  now  and  then  flushed  with  exqui- 
site pink  tints.  The  little  white  fingers  looked  less  like 
claws,  and  there  came  to  her  an  almost  exultant  strength 
in  place  of  the  dreary  languor.  The  terrible  weakness  in 
her  back  was  quite  forgotten  on  some  days. 

"  Really,  mamma,  mine,"  exclaimed  Archie,  one  morning, 
"  I  must  compliment  you  upon  the  improvement  in  your 
handmaiden.  She  looks  less  like  a  human  spider,  and 
will,  no  doubt,  become  an  ornament  to  the  Oaks,  though 
I  think  people  rarely  choose  pretty  servants.  If  she  is 
to  be  Helena's  property  will  not  the  contrast  between 
mistress  and  maid  be  too  great?" 

Miss  Winstead  at  sixteen  was  large  and  mature-looking. 
Nature  had  formed  her  on  a  generous  model.  Her  feat- 
ures were  not  fine,  and  certainly  far  from  any  point  of  sym- 
metrical beauty ;  her  hands  and  feet  could  lay  no  claim  to 
Cinderella-like  proportions.  Her  hair  was  brown,  and 
abundant,  but  unfortunately  her  complexion  was  not  of  the 
kind  for  an  harmonious  contrast,  being  neither  "  wholly 
dark,  nor  fair."  Indeed,  Mr.  Archibald  had  taken  what 
little  family  beauty  there  was  to  inherit,  and  was  rather 
proud  of  it. 

"  Archibald,"  said  his  mother,  severely,  "  I  wish  you  would 
pay  a  little  attention  to  the  rules  of  good-breeding.  No 
gentleman,  I  think,  is  called  upon  to  discuss  his  mother's 
servants." 

"  I  merely  made  a  comment.  You  must  admit  that  she 
has  improved  wonderfully.  And  she  has  magnificent  eyes. 
Now,  Lena,  if  you  possessed  such  orbs  what  execution 
might  you  not  do  among  the  sterner  sex?" 

Helena  flushed  swarthily.  Celestial  rosy-red  was  not 
among  her  tints. 

"  At  least,  Archibald,  you  can  refrain  from  insulting  yout 


212  LOST  IN   A  GREAT  CITY. 

sister.  I  wish  to  hear  no  more  upon  the  subject,"  was  the 
pointed  reply. 

Mr.  Archie  gave  a  little  laugh,  and  sipped  his  coffee. 
He  could  afford  to  try  his  mother's  temper  since  he  was  to 
go  away  in  a  few  days. 

After  he  had  left  the  room  Helena  glanced  up  at  her 
mother.  The  worthy  matron's  brow  was  somewhat  ruffled. 

u  I  am  not  quite  sure  but  Archie  is  right,  mamma,"  she 
said,  in  a  tone  of  annoyance.  "  That  child  is  too  pretty  for 
a  servant.  There  is  something  about  her  that  I  do  not  ex- 
actly understand,  —  the  thing  that  we  should  call  birth  in 
another  person.  It  seems  impossible  to  put  her  down,  be- 
cause she  is  not  outwardly  self-assertive,  and  yet  she  shows 
her  pride  in  every  step,  in  every  word." 

"  Birth  and  pride !  What  are  you  talking  about,  Helena? 
It  is  our  duty  to  make  her  know  her  place.  A  child  picked 
out  of  the  gutter." 

"  She  seems  to  keep  her  place,  that  is  the  worst  of  it. 
She  gives  one  very  few  chances  to  snub  her.  I  sometimes 
think  she  has  seen  more  of  the  world,  and  is  wiser  than  we 
imagine,  she  has  such  a  peculiar  air  about  her.  And  I  don't 
see  what  need  a  girl  in  her  station  has  of  such  a  faultless 
complexion,  or  such  perfect  features  1  And  the  tint  of  her 
hair  is  enough  to  madden  one  I  " 

Helena's  smouldering  fire  burst  out  then.  The  child's 
beauty  had  become  a  grievance  to  her. 

Mrs.  Winstead  glanced  at  her  daughter.  Jane,  as  she 
persisted  in  calling  the  child,  had  been  a  sort  of  under- 
current of  dissatisfaction. 

"  I  must  say  I  did  not  consider  Jane  especially  pretty 
when  I  saw  her  at  the  Home.  That  she  has  improved,  I 
am  sorry  to  confess,  as  beauty  in  her  station  is  only  a  snare 
and  an  evil.  But  whether  it  would  be  worth  while  to  give 
her  up  on  that  account ;  for  she  learns  very  quickly,  and  is 
already  exceedingly  useful.  She  waits  on  the  table  much 
better  than  Hannah,  she  is  learning  to  sew  neatly,  and  has 


PALACE  OR  PRISON.  213 

a  wonderful  taste  in  arrangement.  She  is  just  the  girl  to 
become  invaluable  to  one,  unless  —  " 

"  Unless  Archie  should  fall  in  love  with  her ! "  and  Helena 
felt  that  she  had  thrown  a  bomb  into  the  cainp. 

"  Helena !  "     Mrs.  Winstead  was  an  exclamation  point. 

"  Well,  the  like  has  happened,"  retorted  Helena,  sulkily. 

"  How  utterly  absurd  1  I  doubt  if  the  child  is  twelve 
years  old,  and  for  the  next  three  years  Archie  will  be  in 
college.  During  that  time  he  will  find  no  scarcity  of  hand- 
some girls.  After  all,  there  is  plenty  of  this  pink-and- 
white  baby  beauty  in  the  world ;  and  I  should  keep  Jane 
strictly  under  my  own  eye.  Besides,  do  you  imagine 
Archibald  would  so  demean  himself?" 

"He  wouldn't  marry  her,  of  course,"  said  Miss  Helena; 
"  but  even  a  flirtation  might  be  uncomfortable." 

Mrs.  Winstead  laughed  scornfully. 

"  Don't  distress  yonrself  about  that,  my  dear.  I  fancy  I 
should  be  quite  equal  to  such  an  emergency." 

Helena  did  not  bring  forth  a  still  more  potent  argument, 
on  a  point  that  might  affect  her  more  than  the  dreaded 
flirtation.  She  hated  the  little  flings  of  contrast  of  which 
Archibald  was  so  fond.  To  be  exposed  to  them,  sharp 
little  wasp  stings  as  they  would  prove,  appeared  almost 
unendurable. 

"  Besides,  Helena,  pretty  children  invariably  make  plain 
women.  This  girl  at  sixteen  may  have  nothing  noticeable 
about  her.  Complexions  fade,  and  her  hair  will  change  to 
a  dull  brown." 

"But  she  has  fine  eyes ;  unusual  eyes." 

"  And  I  may  not  keep  her,"  continued  Mrs.  Winstead, 
dryly.  "  I  certainly  shall  not  sacrifice  the  well-being  of  my 
family  to  her.  There,  I  think  we  have  discussed  the  child 
quite  enough.  She  is  not  worth  such  a  fuss." 

With  that  Mrs.  Winstead  rose  loftily,  and,  ringing  the 
bell,  summoned  Jane  to  wash  the  silver  and  clear  away 
the  lunch-dishes.  The  servants  partook  of  their  dinner 


214  LOST  IN   A  GREAT  CITY. 

exactly  at  twelve,  in  the  kitchen.  Lunch  for  the  family 
was  at  one. 

The  remnants  of  the  dinner  of  the  day  before  generally 
served  for  lunch,  and,  though  Titania  sometimes  coveted 
the  luxuries  she  put  away,  pride  would  have  prevented  her 
touching  them,  if  she  had  not  been  so  strictly  forbidden. 

Helena  went  to  her  room,  and  her  novel.  Mrs.Winstead 
inspected  her  handmaiden's  work,  the  ripping  of  some 
dresses  that  were  to  be  made  over  into  elegant  fall  gar- 
ments. There  certainly  was  no  fault  to  find.  The  little 
fingers  had  been  deft  and  industrious;  and  yet  the  lady 
drew  her  brows  into  a  severe  frown. 

Titania  entered  the  room  presently.  Her  dress  was  of 
dingy  gray,  a  faded  lawn,  made  with  no  ornamentation 
whatever,  except  the  frill  of  the  same  around  the  neck.  But 
the  pearly,  satin-fine  skin  seemed  lovelier  by  contrast,  and 
the  rapid  exercise  had  brought  a  delicate  pink  to  her 
cheeks,  while  her  small  scarlet  mouth  was  the  one  touch  of 
brilliance  enhancing  the  whole. 

The  dull,  jealous  hate  with  which  Titania  had  at  first  in- 
spired Mrs.  Winstead  returned  with  tenfold  force.  She 
could  have  destroyed  the  winsome  beauty  forever,  had  such 
a  thing  been  possible,  and  answered  to  her  conscience  that 
it  was  for  the  child's  good.  There  was  one  thing  that  she 
could  do. 

"  Jane,"  she  said  in  a  peremptory  manner,  "  bring  me  a 
cloth  of  some  kind  —  a  piece  of  that  skirt-lining  will  do. 
There,  sit  here  on  this  stool,  and  pin  it  tightly  about  your 
neck." 

The  child  sat  down,  then  she  turned,  and  asked  rather 
abruptly,  moved  by  a  sudden  presentiment, 

"What  are  you  going  to  do ? " 

"Make  you  look  rather  more  respectable,"  replied  the 
lady,  in  a  sharp  tone.  "  A  frousy-headed  servant  I  cannot 
endure." 

"You  shall  not  cut  my  hair!"  and  Titania's  hands  went 


PALACE  OB  PRISON.  216 

np  to  defend  her  precious  cnrls,  shorn  of  so  much  glory  in 
the  hospital,  where  it  had  been  absolutely  necessary. 

"  What ! "  demanded  Mrs.  Winstead.  "  You  insolent 
little  thing  to  dare  use  such  language  to  me  I  Put  down 
your  hands  this  moment." 

"  You  shall  not,"  cried  the  child ;  "  it  is  my  hair ;  you 
have  no  right ! "  —  and  she  faced  her  mistress  with  the  same 
air  of  resolute  defiance  with  which  she  had  once  con- 
fronted Dick  Bridger. 

For  answer  she  received  a  blinding,  stinging  blow,  that 
made  the  room  whirl  around  to  her  dazed  vision. 

"  You  insolent  little  huzzy,  I'll  teach  you  to  speak  to  me 
in  that  manner!  "  and  Titania  felt  herself  seized  by  a  strong 
arm,  and  held  as  if  in  a  vice,  while  the  clip  of  the  scissors 
rang  in  her  ears. 

"Oh,  don't,  don't!"  she  implored,  "please  don't.  I  will 
do  everything  you  tell  me,  and  not  waste  my  time.  I  will 
be  so  good,  only  don't  cut  it,  please  !  " 

Alas!  the  ruthless  scissors  made  quick  work  of  it.  Hold- 
ing  her  with  one  hand  with  the  other  she  sped  on  the 
work  of  destruction.  The  soft,  golden  curls  fell  about  the 
floor,  quivering  as  if  they,  too,  suffered  at  being  severed 
from  the  fair  head. 

"  I'll  teach  you  to  be  such  a  fury !  I  should  think  you 
would  be  ashamed  of  such  a  frightful  temper  I  That  is  the 
way  you  thank  me  for  my  kindness  in  picking  you  out  of 
the  street,  as  one  may  say." 

"Oh,  if  you  only  had  not  taken  me!  If  you  had  left  me 
with  kind  Mrs.  Post.  If  you  will  send  me  back  again ! " 
sobbed  the  child. 

"Turn  around." 

She  obeyed,  the  te.irs  streaming  from  her  eyes.  Re- 
sistance was  useless,  for  the  cruel  deed  was  well-nigh 
accomplished. 

"  I  want  you  to  understand  that  I  am  mistress,  and  that 
I  expect  my  servants  to  obey  me,"  said  Mrs.  Winstead, 


216  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

with  a  glance  that  almost  quenched  the  spirit  of  the 
child;  "I  shall  not  send  you  back  to  Mrs.  Post,  but  have 
you  bound  immediately.  Here  you  remain  until  you  are 
eighteen.  Dare  to  go  away  and  you  shall  be  arrested,  and 
put  in  prison  as  a  common  vagrant.  Venture  to  defy  me. 
as  you  have  done  to-day,  and  you  will  learn  what  sort  of 
punishment  I  can  inflict.  Go  to  your  room  and  wash  your 
face,  and  brush  the  hair  out  of  your  dress.  Or  stay  —  clear 
up  this  litter,  first." 

Titania  went  for  the  brush  and  pan,  and  carefully  re- 
moved the  obnoxious  curls,  together  with  the  shreds  of  her 
ripping. 

"  Take  it  down-stairs,  and  tell  Mary  to  put  it  in  the  fire," 
was  the  next  order. 

Down  she  crept  tremblingly.  For  some  seconds  she 
stood  at  the  door,  when  a  little  sob  caught  Hannah's  ear. 

"Oh,  lauk  a  massy!"  cried  Hannah,  startled  out  of  her 
wonted  prudence  and  stolidity ;  "  what  a  fright  you're 
made,  sure  enough.  Who  did  it  ?  " 

"Mrs.  Winstead.     And  I  hate  her  1" 

The  child's  soft-brown  eyes  flashed  fire. 

tt  Well,  that's  mean  enough,  goodness  knows !  Fd  a  fit 
Jike  a  tiger.  And,  oh,  them  soft,  beautiful  curls!  Why, 
they  look  a'most  human.  Oh,  how  could  she ! " 

"  Hannah,  attend  to  your  own  business,"  exclaimed  Mary, 
who  in  turn  domineered  over  her  underling;  "the  mistress 
is  right.  Such  flummery  isn't  becoming  to  girls !  I  never 
wore  a  curl  in  my  life." 

Indeed,  it  would  have  been  a  task  to  manufacture  curia 
out  of  Mary's  stiff",  black  locks. 

Then  she  turned  sharply  on  Titania. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  with  that  stuff?" 

"  I  was  —  to  put  it  in  the  fire,"  and  the  words  came 
brokenly. 

"  Best  place  for  it,  I'm  sure.  Well,  I  wouldn't  be  such  a 
fool  as  to  cry  over  it." 


PALACE  OB  PRISON.  217 

Titania  wiped  her  eyes,  and  left  the  kitchen,  followed  by 
Hannah's  sympathetic  looks,  which  were  some  comfort. 

"  Why  did  you  not  stay  all  the  afternoon  ? "  was  Mrs- 
Winstead's  greeting.  "  Now,  go  and  make  yourself  decent, 
and  hurry,  too,  or  I'll  know  the  reason." 

She  bathed  her  eyes,  and  wept  some  bitter  tears  in  the 
bowl  of  water.  Then  she  summoned  courage  to  glance  at 
herself  in  the  bit  of  glass  over  the  washstand. 

Sheared  close  to  her  head, — just  a  sort  of  golden  fuzz, 
with  here  and  there  a  little  lock  that  had  escaped  the  devas- 
tating hand.  She  shuddered,  and  her  eyes  filled  with  slow 
tears  again.  Hannah  had  said  she  was  a  fright.  Oh,  how 
horrible  it  was !  And  if  Mrs.  Winstead  would  never  let  it 
grow  again ! 

"Jane,  are  you  coming?"  was  the  sharp  call;  and  hastily 
giving  herself  a  brush,  she  ran  down. 

M  Take  your  work  again.  That  dress  must  be  finished  by 
night.  Stop  crying  instantly.  Tears  will  ruin  that  silk. 
If  you  were  as  vain  as  that,  it  is  high  time  some  stop  was 
put  to  your  foolishness,"  and  the  severe  eyes  transfixed 
her. 

Every  nerve  quivered  as  if  under  torture.  All  her  life, 
so  far,  she  had  been  in  some  one's  power.  Dick  Bridger 
had  come  to  love  her,  the  sweet  reward  she  could  never 
forget ;  but  this  cold,  haughty  woman,  was/  only  a  remove 
from  Owen  Thomas.  And  she  had  struck  her  a  blow! 
Her  cheek  still  tingled,  and  the  print  of  the  cruel  fingers 
seemed  burnt  into  it.  Was  she  compelled  to  stay  here  ? 
Had  those  people  any  right  to  deliver  her  into  a  stranger's 
keeping?  Oh,  if  Kate  would  but  write!  There  was  one 
week  more  before  August  ended,  and  it  seemed  to  Titania 
that  she  must  hear.  The  tears  dried  of  their  own  accord, 
and  a  burning,  fiery  indignation  took  possession  of  her. 
When  Kate  sent,  she  would  go  off  in  triumph.  She  would 
show  Mrs.  Winstead  that  she  was  to  be  no  one's  servant. 

She  finished  her  ripping,  and  then  was  summoned  to 


218  LOST  IN  A   GREAT  CITY. 

wait  upon  the  table.  Miss  Helena  had  been  carried  off 
to  ride  by  a  friend.  Titania  entered  the  dining-room  with 
a  shame-faced  air,  and  stood  behind  the  master  while  he 
carved. 

Mr.  Winstead  was  not  much  more  than  the  ornamental 
head  of  the  house.  He  had  long  since  ceased  to  be  the 
ruling  spirit.  His  library,  and  his  books,  and  a  few  friends 
to  discuss  Utopian  theories  with,  amply  satisfied  him. 
True,  he  attended  his  wife  to  evening  parties  or  dinners, 
and  occasionally  drove  out  with  her.  His  tall,  rather  spare, 
but  undeniably  aristocratic  figure,  answered  the  same  pur- 
pose as  a  Sevres  vase,  in  his  wife's  estimation.  His  family 
were  among  the  oldest  settlers  in  the  town,  and  had  always 
been  gentlemen. 

So  it  came  to  pass  that  he  troubled  himself  very  little 
about  his  wife's  arrangements.  Servants  might  come  and 
go,  be  dressed  in  velvet  or  sackcloth,  and  he  would  not 
have  remarked  it  BO  long  as  the  meals  were  properly 
served,  and  no  unusual  disorder  in  the  house. 

But  Mr.  Archie  was  of  quite  another  stamp,  and  the 
child  had  an  instinctive  dread  of  him.  Now  he  looked  her 
all  over,  and  then  raised  his  eyes  to  his  mother's  face  with 
an  air  of  deliberate,  but  somewhat  quizzical,  questioning. 
Titania's  brow  flushed  scarlet,  and  her  hand  trembled  so 
that  it  took  a  most  resolute  endeavor  to  command  herself, 
and  keep  from  dropping  the  plate  she  held.  It  was  such  a 
bitterly  cruel  mortification,  the  more,  perhaps,  because  so 
early  in  life  she  had  come  to  understand  the  true  value  of 
beauty,  and  its  wondrous  power.  A  tear  dropped  quietly 
on  the  floor.  Evade  the  insolent  scrutiny  she  could  not, 
but  when  the  dessert  had  been  brought  on,  and  the 

O  * 

serving  ended,  she  turned  to  go  down-stairs  to  her  own 
meal. 

"  Jane,"  said  her  mistress,  peremptorily,  "  sit  there  by 
the  window.  You  are  to  stay,  hereafter,  until  the  meal  is 
finished." 


PALACE   OR  PRISON.  219 

She  crept  to  a  corner  instead,  anywhere  to  be  out  of 
sight  of  the  mocking  eyes. 

"  Jane ! "     The  tone  was  threatening. 

The  child  went  to  the  window,  and  sat  in  the  strong 
light  of  the  brilliant  sunset.  An  artist  would  have  dis- 
cerned a  picture  in  the  poor,  frightened  face,  beautiful  in 
spite  of  its  recent  despoilment,  with  the  peculiar  infantile 
transparency  of  an  invalid.  Nothing  could  mar  the  pure 
oval  contour,  the  softness  of  the  cleft  chin,  with  its  dainty 
dimple ;  the  low,  broad,  full  brow,  the  exquisitely  carved 
ear,  that  looked  like  a  bit  of  pearly  sea-shell. 

Archibald  gave  a  low  chuckle,  but  his  mother  frowned 
sternly.  When  they  rose  from  the  table  he  lingered,  going 
to  the  cigar  tray  for  a  match,  and  then  wandering  aimlessly 
about,  with  his  eyes  on  Titania  as  she  removed  the  dessert 
dishes.  They  went  down  on  the  dumb-waiter,  afid  a  bowl 
of  water  was  sent  up  to  wash  the  silver.  She  could  hide 
herself  in  the  capacious  pantry  to  do  that,  and  she  was  so 
thankful  to  be  out  of  sight. 

Mrs.  Winstead  came  in  to  inspect  the  work,  and  found 
some  trivial  fault.  She  was  in  a  most  captious  and  exact- 
ing .mood ;  but  Titania  went  swiftly  through  her  task,  and 
when  not  another  duty  remained  she  was  allowed  to  go 
down  to  the  kitchen  for  her  supper. 

Scarcely  had  she  passed  the  door  before  Archie  burst 
into  a  coarse  laugh. 

"Well,  you  have  done  it  this  time,  mother!  In  trying 
to  disfigure  a  uymph  you  have  given  us  a  fright  for  a 
waiter.  Was  that  Helena's  petty  spite?  It  was  so  like  a 
plain  woman." 

"  Helena  had  nothing  to  do  with  it.  The  child's  head 
was  a  great  yellow  mop,  and  a  frowsy  table-waitress  is  my 
abomination.  Besides,  it  is  a  good  thing  for  the  child's 
foolish  vanity,  and  she  has  enough  of  it." 

"For  Heaven's  sake  don't  have  her  around  if  there 


220  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

should  happen  to  be  any  visitors.  I  should  be  mortified 
to  death  at  the  sight  of  such  a  brat.'* 

Mrs*  Winstead  bit  her  lip,  and  left  her  son  to  his  reflec- 
tions. Thank  heaven  he  would  be  away  presently,  and 
another  summer  —  but  that  was  a  long  way  off,  and  she 
would  find  some  means  of  providing  for  it. 

Titania,  meanwhile,  was  faring  hardly  in  the  kitchen, 
When  the  dinner  was  sent  up  Mary's  work  for  the  day 
was  over,  and  she  went  home  immediately,  the  remainder 
of  the  evening  being  her  own,  except  upon  state  occasions. 
Hannah  remained  to  wash  the  dishes  and  tidy  the  place, 
for  the  mistress'  lynx-like  eyes  might  descend  upon  the 
slightest  omission. 

So  now  Hannah  was  cross  at  the  delay,  and  the  supper 
consisted  of  a  few  cold  bits,  that  did  not  look  very  inviting 
even  if  the  child  had  been  hungry.  But  her  inmost  soul 
was  filled  with  despairing  anguish,  and  she  could  not  have 
eaten  even  if  it  had  been  a  royal  banquet. 

"Hurry  up,"  she  said,  snappishly.  "I  can't  be  waiting 
all  night  for  dishes.  Why  didn't  you  come  afore  ?" 

"Mrs.  Winstead  kept  me  until  they  were  all  through. 
But,  Hannah,  I  don't  care  for  any  supper,  and  I  will  help 
you  dry  the  dishes." 

"  No  you  won't,  either.  Mistress'll  find  it  out  some  way, 
and  make  an  nwful  row.  She's  a  sharp  woman,  she  is ! 
If  that's  being  a  great  lady,  and  having  a  pedigree  hung 
up  in  a  libery,  why  I  don't  know  as  it  makes  better  tempers 
than  common  folks;  and  though  she  sows  money  broad-cast 
in  the  parlor,  she'll  skin  a  flint  in  the  kitchen.  You  poor 
little  thing!"  —  and  here  Hannah's  heart  began  to  melt, — 
"  you  look  iust  like  a  half-starved  lamb,  strayed  away  from 
its  mother.  Here,  you  shall  have  a  bit  of  this  custard,  and 
a'  peach.  I  smuggled  it  myself." 

"Oh,  Hannah,  you  are  so  good  I"  and  Titania's  voice 
quivered  with  the  effort  she  made  to  keep  from  crying. 

"  No,  I  ain't.     I'm  cross  as  fury  !     And  I  don't  see  what 


PALACE   OR  PRISON.  221 

right  she  had  to  cut  off  your  pretty  hair !  I'd  a  scratched 
her  eyes  out." 

"Oh,  I  couldn't.  She  was  so  strong,"  said  Titania, 
simply.  "  Do  I  look  so  very,  very  dreadful,  Hannah  ?  " 

"  Well,  it's  a  shame,  a  burning  and  crying  shame,  you 
see,"  said  Hannah,  eying  her  with  great  deliberation, 
"  but  I  can't  say  that  it  has  altogether  spoiled  your  beauty. 
An'  then  hair'll  grow  again  —  that's  its  nature  ;  but  she'U 
never  let  it  curl,  you  mind  that ! "  and  the  girl  gave  an 
emphatic  shake  of  the  head.  "  I  think  you're  a  main  pretty 
little  creature,  and  look  a  thousand  times  more  like  a  lady 
than  the  whole  raft  of  them  all.  'Pears  to  me  tain't  noth- 
ing but  money  and  a  fine  house,  and  knowing  how  'to 
play  on  the  planner.  Why,  if  you  were  dressed  up  fine, 
now,  the  great  folks  would  go  wild  about  you." 

A  flush  of  pleasure  transfigured  Titania's  face.  She 
remembered  when  great  folks  had  gone  wild  about  her. 
There  came  over  her  an  intense  desire  to  impart  to  Han- 
nah some  episode  of  that  past  wonderful  life  that  looked 
now  like  fairy  land.  But  a  step  was  heard  on  the  stair. 

**  Put  it  in  your  pocket,"  and  Hannah  thrust  the  peach 
under  the  table,  in  the  child's  hand,  while  the  surreptitious 
custard  was  whisked  out  of  sight. 

a  How  slow  you  are  with  the  dishes,  Hannah  1  And  do 
you  mean  to  eat  all  night,  Jane  ?  " 

«*  She  hasn't  eaten  a  bit,"  interrupted  Hannah. 

Certainly  the  Madam's  kitchen  tone  was  very  different 
from  her  drawing-room  tone. 

"  Get  through  with  your  meal  as  quickly  as  possible 
then,  and  go  up-stairs.  I  am  waiting  to  have  the  lamps 
lighted.  And  the  gossipping  of  servants  is  a  thing  that  I 
will  not  allow  in  my  house,  and  you  know  it,-  Hannah. 
It  is  your  place  to  set  an  example." 

**I  wasn't  gossipping,"  returned  Hannah,  sulkily. 

Titania  gave  her  a  grateful  look,  and  went  quietly  out 
of  the  room.  Mrs.  Winstead  seized  the  opportunity  to  im- 


222  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

press  upon  Hannah  the  utter  perverseness  and  intractability 
of  Jane,  and  the  trouble  she  was  likely  to  have  with  hei 
"  I  should  not  wonder  if  I  had  to  send  her  back,"  was  hei 
concluding  verdict ;  but  if  she  had  known  that  it  would 
prove  a  joy,  and  not  a  threat,  to  the  child,  she  would  hardly 
have  uttered  it. 

Titania  was  so  weary  with  conflicting  emotions  that 
hardly  had  her  head  touched  the  pillow  before  she  fell 
asleep,  and  forgot  her  woes. 

September  came  in,  with  no  word  from  Kate.  Mr 
Archie  went  off  to  college  with  an  indifferent  good-by, 
and  the  house  was  the  more  endurable  for  his  absence. 
Helena  was  cold  and  supercilious,  but  she  had  not,  as  yet, 
the  petty  cruelty  of  her  mother. 

Mrs.  Winstead  found  that  she  was  likely  to  have  a 
treasure  in  her  deft-hauded  maiden.  She  would  not  have 
admitted  the  fact ;  indeed,  to  her  friends  she  bewailed  the 
possession  of  that  exceeding  sympathy  that  was  always 
leading  her  into  such  foolish  experiments. 

"  It  will  take  two  or  three  years  to  train  the  child  into 
anything,"  she  would  say,  "  and  you  can  never  predict  how 
a  girl  of  that  class  will  turn  out.  There  is  so  much  in 
birth.  But  when  the  world  is  filled  with  these  homeless 
creatures  we  must  all  do  a  little  toward  raising  them; 
and,  in  any  case,  I  will  have  tried  to  save  one  poor  soul 
from  destruction." 


ON   THE    TRACK.  223 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

ON  THE   TBACK. 

MEANWHILE  what  had  befallen  Mrs.  Chippenham. 

It  must  be  admitted  that  Gilbert's  usual  luck  followed 
him.  He  had  never  succeeded  at  anything,  and  never 
would.  In  poverty  he  lacked  perseverance,  and  the  reso- 
lute courage  necessaiy  to  battle  with  adverse  circum- 
stances, and  in  prosperity  his  overweening  vanity  led  him 
astray.  His  winter  in  Paris  was  not  a  success.  He  spent 
a  great  deal  of  money  in  preparing  his  play  for  the  stage, 
and  suffered  the  bitter  mortification  of  having  it  hissed. 
Then  he  quarrelled  with  the  manager,  and  found  himself 
a  general  laughing-stock.  The  keen  wit  of  the  Parisians 
stung  him  through  his  self-complacency. 

He  had  indulged  in  extravagant  club-living  and  gaming, 
and  found  that  here,  too,  the  piper  must  be  paid.  So  he 
took  a  sudden  disgust  to  the  dancing. 

It  was  plain  that  they  would  be  compelled  to  economize. 
Kate  must  give  up  her  hotel  and  her  ponies,  and  perhaps 
they  had  better  quit  Paris.  He  had  not  been  appreciated 
as  his  talents  deserved.  The  managers  and  the  clubs  were 
a  gigantic  swindle.  There  was  Rome,  and  Florence,  and 
Vienna,  and  the  German  baths.  They  had  done  none  of 
them.  If  they  re-commenced  their  tour  he  need  not  go 
into  any  awkward  explanations  with  Kate. 

His  proposal  to  visit  Italy  was  received  with  pleasure. 
Kate  cheerfully  disposed  of  the  ponies,  packed  her  trunks, 
and  late  in  May  they  reached  Florence.  Here  he  met 
gome  old  friends,  needy  adventurers,  who  welcomed!  him 


224  LOST   IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 

warmly.     He  would  devote  himself  to  writing  a  book  ol 
travels  that  should  distance  everything. 

Kate  demurred  somewhat  at  her  accommodations. 

"  Everything  is  so  fearfully  expensive,"  said  her  lord  and 
master !  "  and,  Kate,  we  are  not  nabobs.  We  really  spent 
more  in  Paris  than  we  should  have  done." 

"But  I  thought  living  in  .Paris  was  so  cheap,  much 
cheaper  than  in  America,  And  yet  it  seems  as  if  my 
dresses  cost  more,  and  you  couldn't  stir  without  spending 
a  handful  of  francs." 

"  That  was  our  bridal  tour,  and  we  won't  begrudge  the 
money,"  he  replied,  with  a  rather  grandiose  bearing.  "  In 
future  we  will  try  to  be  more  economical." 

He  meant  that  she  should  be.  He  could  see  where  to 
deprive  her  of  some  needless  luxury^  but  for  himself  a  cer- 
tain style  was  necessary.  She  was  not  the  kind  of  woman 
to  advance  a  man  in  society,  and  then  she  was  so  much 
older.  He  began  to  think,  in  a  patronizing  way,  that  he 
had  been  exceedingly  foolish  to  marry  her,  to  tie  himself 
to  a  vulgar,  commonplace  person. 

And  so  poor  Kate  found  it  rather  dull,  alone  among 
strangers,  and  poured  out  her  heart  again  to  Titania,  in  a 
letter  the  poor  child  never  received. 

"Gilbert,"  she  said,  a  month  or  so  later,  "have  you 
written  to  Mr.  Thomas  that  Titania  will  not  enter  into  any 
new  engagement  ?  I  want  her  sent  for,  to  come  to  us  in 
the  fall." 

"  Oh,  of  course,  of  course,"  was  Gilbert's  impatient  reply, 
scarcely  heeding  what  she  said. 

They  went  to  Rome.  Kate  wandered  about  listlessly, 
and  Gilbert  did  not  find  much  to  attract  him ;  so,  after  a 
brief  sojourn,  they  went  to  Germany.  Homburg  opened 
hospitable  doors. 

Mr.  Chippenham  began  to  be  concerned  about  his  remit- 
tance from  Roberts,  and  wrote  a  sharp  letter  to  the  agent. 
Then  he  wondered  if  he  could  not  manage  to  make  Titania 


ON  THE  TRACK.  225 

more  profitable.  She  was  worth  more  than  Thomas  paid 
for  her.  A  pretty  little  thing  —  perhaps  he  could  create 
quite  a  sensation  with  her.  Kate  would  make  a  fuss  doubt- 
less, but  she  would  see  that  it  was  best. 

Then  came  a  letter  that  had  followed  him  from  point 
to  point.  It  detailed  Titania's  mishap,  and  stated  that 
Thomas  had  thrown  up  the  engagement.  Titania  had 
been  taken  to  a  hospital  —  her  back  was  so  injured  by  the 
fall  that  the  probabilities  were  she  would  never  do  for  a 
stage  performer.  Mr.  Roberts  suggested  that  she  should 
be  sent  to  Mrs.  Chippenham  as  soon  as  she  was  able  to 
travel. 

The  innate  selfishness  of  the  man  took  alarm.  Titania 
certainly  had  no  legal  claim  upon  Kate.  If  she  were  to  be 
dependent  —  helpless  —  no,  he  could  not  think  of  having 
Kate  bothered  with  her.  It  was  another  piece  of  bad  luck, 
and  he  half  believed  the  child  had  done  it  purposely.  Let 
her  suffer  the  consequences,  then. 

So  he  replied  immediately.  They  could  do  nothing  for 
her.  Mrs.  Chippenham  was  travelling  about,  and  really 
had  no  home.  If  Titania  was  injured  beyond  recovery  the 
best  plan  would  be  to  send  her  to  some  charitable  in- 
stitution, or  orphan  asylum. 

In  reply  Chippenham  received  word  that  this  had  been 
done. 

Bitten  by  a  mania  for  gambling,  Chippenham  was  rapidly 
reducing  Kate's  once  comfortable  fortune.  Moreover  he 
was  growing  very  morose,  and  Kate  saw  with  dismay  that 
much  of  the  time  he  was  under  the  influence  of  liquor. 
Remonstrating  only  drew  upon  her  head  a  shower  of 
abuse. 

Six  months  had  now  elapsed  without  any  direct  tidings 
from  Titania,  so  Kate  applied  to  Mr.  Roberts  with  the  ut- 
most urgency. 

Poor  Kate  had  sown  to  the  wind,  like  a  foolish  woman, 
and  was  now  to  reap  the  whirlwind.  She  found  her  dear 
15 


226  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

Gilbert  a  harder  master  than  Dick  Bridger  had  ever  been 
Indeed,  he  ceased  to  keep  up  the  formula  of  love  that  had 
BO  blinded  her.  She  could  get  no  satisfaction  about  busi- 
ness matters,  and  he  doled  her  out  her  own  money  with 
grumbling  and  oaths.  She  began  to  fear  she  had  been 
unwise  in  trusting  him  so  implicitly. 

Mr.  Roberts'  brief  note  amazed  her.  He  stated  that  he 
had  kept  Mr.  Chippenham  informed  of  all  that  had  befallen 
Mam'selle  Barrett! ;  but  he  went  over  the  details  for  her 
satisfaction. 

This  sad  news  shocked  first,  then  roused.  She  had 
fancied  Titania  well  and  happy,  gaining  triumphs  and  ap- 
plause, growing  more  enchantingly  beautiful,  and  enjoying 
the  excitements  of  the  stage,  that  would  have  been  such  a 
delight  to  her  vain,  foolish  soul.  But  if  Dick's  little 
Queenie  was  injured,  a  cripple  for  life,  her  duty  was  clear. 
Have  her  she  must.  No  Hospital  or  Home  should  befriend 
the  child  while  she  had  a  penny. 

The  womanly  part  of  her  soul  was  touched.  The  most 
unselfish  love  of  Kate's  whole  life  came  to  light  now.  She 
had  always  been  interested  in  the  small  waif  drifted  to  her 
keeping  by  the  strange  incidents  of  a  peculiar  fate.  Shut 
out  of  other  channels  for  affection  this  became  more  intense, 
and  if  it  had  not  the  noblest  sentiment  for  a  foundation  its 
present  kindly  intention  purified  and  ennobled. 

Unluckily  Gilbert  Chippenham  sauntered  into  his  wife's 
room  at  this  juncture.  She  turned  upon  him  with  the 
letter,  and  in  a  passion  that  surprised  even  herself.  Had 
he  known  all  this  time?  Had  he  dared  to  leave  Titania 
among  strangers,  —  an  object  of  charity? 

It  led,  as  may  be  supposed,  to  a  desperate  quarrel. 
Chippenham  refused  to  send  for  Titania,  to  return  to 
America,  or  even  give  his  wife  a  dollar  to  spend  on  the 
beggar's  brat.  She  was  nothing  to  them.  Let  her  live  or 
die  as  she  liked.  Kate  must  understand  once  for  all  that 
she  should  never  be  an  inmate  of  Ms  house  t 


ON  THE  TRACK.  227 

"  She  shall  be  an  inmate  of  mine,  then,"  answered  Kate, 
defiantly.  "  Either  she  shall  come  to  me,  or  I  will  go  to 
her." 

Darling  Gilbert  swore  furiously.  And  then  he  asked 
Kate,  sneeringly,  where  she  would  get  her  money  from  ? 
She  could  not  touch  a  penny  except  as  he  gave  it  to  her ; 
and  she  had  been  so  —  extravagant !  He  would  have  no 
more  such  waste  and  foolery. 

It  was  too  true.  Everything  was  in  her  husband's 
hands.  That  he  had  squandered  nearly  all  of  it  never 
occurred  to  her.  Her  sanguine  nature  leaped  over  ob- 
stacles, and  she  made  her  plans  directly. 

She  would  send  for  Titania.  There  surely  could  be 
found  some  trusty  person  —  captain  of  steamer,  or  stew- 
ardess, who,  for  proper  compensation,  would  bring  over  the 
child.  Then  she  would  find  a  quiet,  inexpensive  home,  or 
some  simple  school,  perhaps,  where  she  might  be  allowed 
to  visit  her  frequently.  But  where  was  the  money  to  come 
from? 

There  was  but  one  way.  Kate's  whole  soul  was  enlisted, 
her  sluggish  nature  roused  to  a  height  of  self-sacrifice. 
She  took  out  her  jewel-case,  and  selected  the  diamonds 
that  had  been  such  a  source  of  gratification  to  her,  and 
went  straightway  to  a  jeweller's.  She  so  seldom  wore 
them  now  that  they  would  hardly  be  missed.  And  for  the 
first  time  —  remembering  the  freedom  and  delights  of  her 
brief  widowhood  —  Kate  Chippenham  regretted  her  haste 
and  her  folly  in  espousing  Gilbert.  If  she  were  only  free 
to-day,  and  mistress  of  her  own  fortune !  Into  what  mon- 
strous madness  had  she  been  betrayed ! 

She  realized  quite  a  handsome  sum,  and  immediately 
forwarded  it  to  Mr.  Roberts,  with  all  possible  and  impos- 
sible instructions.  Titania  was  to  be  sent  at  the  earliest 
opportunity.  Then  she  busied  herself  inquiring  about 
schools,  and  planning  the  life  together.  Mr.  Roberts  had 
said  that  Titania  was  in  no  way  crippled  or  deformed,  as 


228  LOST   IN   >    GREAT  CITY. 

he  understood  it,  but  left  weak  and  ailing  by  the  long 
sickness  and  possibly  bad  usage.  She  might  get  quite  wet 
and  beautiful  again ;  and  a  warm,  motherly  feeling  sprang 
up  in  Kate's  heart,  the  need  of  something  to  take  Gilbert's 
place. 

Kate  did  not  really  understand  how  gradual  the  process 
of  disenchantment  had  been.  Neglect,  indifference,  and 
tyranny  had  sapped  her  regard  by  slow  degrees.  It  makes 
little  difference  what  shock  sends  the  fruit  to  the  ground, 
when  for  weeks  the  worm  has  lain  at  its  heart.  She 
thought  it  his  cruelty  and  deception  about  Titania,  —  she 
fancied  she  had  forgiven  his  little  daily  sins.  Like  many 
another  common-place,  unreasoning  woman,  there  was  no 
long-suffering  to  her  love.  If  she  could  have  taken  her 
money  out  of  his  hands  she  would  have  bidden  him  a  joy- 
ful good-by.  As  it  was,  she  resolved  to  set  herself  to 
manage  against  him,  to  outwit  him,  to  master  him  by  any 
strategy. 

It  was  the  middle  of  December  before  her  letter  reached 
Mr.  Roberts,  and  it  found  him  so  engrossed  with  various 
matters  that  he  merely  deputed  a  subordinate  to  make  in- 
quiries, and  answer  the  letter.  Through  a  misunderstand- 
ing of  names  word  was  sent  back  that  the  child  had  died. 

A  little  later  another  actor  appeared  on  the  scene.  Was 
Dick's  little  Queen  ever  to  know  how  warm  an  interest  she 
created  and  kept  alive  in  the  hearts  of  strangers  ? 

Roger  Lasselle  had  found  many  interests  for  his  young 
manhood.  Ambition  to  keep  somewhere  near  his  cousin 
Lawrence  in  scholarship,  friendship,  —  for  he  was  of  the 
kind  who  are  always  the  centre  of  an  admiring  circle.  He 
adored  Aunt  Alice  with  the  passion  of  a  boy  who  has 
never  had  mother  or  sister  to  love,  and  her  influence  over 
him  was  most  refining,  in  his  amusements  as  well  as  tastes. 

He  and  Lawrence  were  to  go  home  for  the  Christmas 
holidays.  An  evening  or  two  before,  he  sat  lounging  and 
smoking  in  the  room  of  a  classmate,  who  was  tumbling  out 


ON  THE  TRACK.  229 

the  contents  of  a  trunk,  and  laughing  at  the  carefulness 
with  which  various  unimportant  articles  had  been  stored 
away,  by  an  ever-watchful  aunt,  whose  protege  he  was. 

u  Women  always  put  such  a  sight  of  useless,  humbug- 
ging things  among  a  fellow's  traps,"  was  his  rather  humor- 
ous comment.  M  These  socks  are  wrapped  in  newspaper  to 
keep  out  moths,  and  I  told  Aunt  Lucy  I  should  never  wear 
them,  —  woollen,  think  of  it ! "  —  and  he  laughingly  tore 
off  the  paper.  "  Hello !  I  wonder  they  were  not  demoral- 
ized !  here's  a  flaming  advertisement  of  a  grand  show ! " 

"  Let's  have  it  ?  "  and  Roger  reached  out  his  hand,  lazily. 
"  I  remember  when  a  circus  used  to  set  me  wild,  and  some 
placard  of  a  minstrel  band  posted  on  a  dead  wall  stirred 
my  young  blood." 

"  Marvellous  Fairy  Queen  Titania,"  read  his  friend. 

Roger  sprang  up  with  an  eager  laugh. 

"  That's  a  century  old,  Ned  J  I  went  to  it  mysel£  Let's 
see  how  it  looks." 

u  Why,  were  you  ever  in  L — ;  at  the  Odeon  ?  w 

"No,  it  wasn't  there.  What  are  you  talking  about? 
But  I  am  the  dunce,  I  dare  say.  This  was  at  Branchville, 
ages  ago.  Titania  was  a  most  beautiful  little  creature. 
When  was  she  in  L  —  ?  " 

tt  Why,  this  has  the  date  of  last  April." 

"April  ?     Then  she  has  come  back !" 

tt  Did  you  know  her  ?  "  was  the  wondering  inquiry. 

«  Well,  no,"  and  Roger  gave  an  odd  little  laugh.  "  It  is 
a  queer  sort  of  complication.  She  resembled  a  picture  of 
a  lost  child  that  my  aunt  was  interested  in,  and  I  set  out 
to  find  her,"  continued  Roger,  blushing  boyishly.  "The 
man  who  had  her  died,  and  the  woman  married  and  went 
to  Europe,  taking  the  child,  I  heard.  And  there  I  lost 
sight  of  them.  She  isn't  the  same  child,  of  course,"  rather 
disconsolately. 

"What  do  you  want  of  her,  then,  if  she  hasn't  the 
identical  strawberry  mark  on  her  arm?  —  and  then  this 


230  LOST  IN   A  GREAT  CITY. 

Ocleon  is  not  considered  very  first  class,  —  and  finally,  whaft 
will  you  do  with  her  ?  " 

"  Chaff  away  as  much  as  you  like,  Ned,  I  was  wonder* 
fully  taken  with  the  little  creature.  Then  the  other  story 
was  so  romantic.  The  child  is  daughter  of  a  nobleman, 
and  the  nurse  who  was  with  her  when  she  was  lost  lives 
with  my  aunt.  There  was  no  connecting  link  but  this  re- 
markable likeness,  and  as  far  as  I  could  learn  this  Barrett! 
was  her  father,  though  the  woman  was  not  her  mother. 
Theatrical  people  have  queer  antecedents.  But  I'd  give 
anything  to  find  this  Titania.  I  am  glad  your  aunt  was  so 
careful  of  your  socks,  Ned.  What  if  I  should  make  you  a 
flying  visit  ?  " 

"  Upon  my  word  you  are  quite  a  hero  of  romance.  Sup- 
pose you  tell  the  story  coherently,  so  that  I  can  distinguish 
between  the  lady  of  high  degree,  and  the  wonderful  acro- 
bat, tight-rope  dancer,  &c." 

Roger  succeeded  in  interesting  Ned  Strathan  almost  as 
keenly  as  he  had  been  interested,  and  they  planned  for  a 
visit.  Roger  went  to  his  room,  in  a  brown  study,  with  the 
bit  of  paper  in  his  hand.  How  odd  that  this  should  crop 
out  again !  And  yet  it  might  be  a  different  person.  Ti- 
tania was  not  an  unusual  stage  cognomen.  But  he  would 
hunt  her  up  without  saying  a  word  to  Lai  or  his  aunt.  If 
he  could  learn  whether  Barretti  was  really  her  father! 
And  yet  a  child  of  seven  would  remember  if  she  had  been 
lost  in  the  street.  But  such  romances  seldom  happened 
out  of  books,  he  told  himself,  by  way  of  moderating  his 
ardor. 

Still,  he  would  so  like  to  find  Titania  again,  —  and  the 
vision  of  the  beautiful  child  floated  before  his  eyes,  in  all 
her  grace  and  witchery.  What  gave  him  this  intense,  ab- 
surd longing  for  her? 

They  wondered  at  his  aunt's  why  he  should  be  so  crazy 
as  to  set  off  on  Monday  for  Ned  Strathan's,  when  he  had 


ON  THE  TRACK.  23l 

only  parted  with  him  on  Friday,  and,  moreover,  was  not 
acquainted  with  another  member  of  the  family. 

"  Why  did  you  not  ask  him  here  ? "  said  Aunt  Alice. 
"You  boys  might  have  had  such  a  nice  visit  together." 

"  I'll  invite  him  next  vacation,"  returned  Roger,  laugh- 
ingly. 

A  two-hours'  journey  brought  him  to  L .  Ned  met 

him  at  the  station. 

"  Now  here's  the  Odeon,"  explained  Ned,  walking  up 
the  street.  "  You  see  it  is  no  great  affair.  I  called  here 
on  Saturday,  and  found  the  manager.  His  name  is  King. 
This  child  was  the  one  Signer  Barretti  had  ;  but  King  said 
she  was  a  puny  little  thing,  not  a  bit  handsome,  and  didn't 
do  half  the  feats  Thomas  claimed  that  she  could.  She  had 
a  bad  fall,  and  was  taken  to  the  hospital.  King  called 
Thomas  a  drunken  swindler.  Still  I  made  an  engagement," 
and  Ned  glanced  furtively  to  see  if  his  friend  was  dis- 
gusted. 

"  You  were  good  to  learn  that  much,  Ned,"  was  the  cor- 
dial response.  "  Can  we  see  this  King  soon  ?  " 

"Yes.  I  said  my  friend  would  be  here  at  two.  He 
promised  to  meet  us  at  the  theatre,  if  you  don't  mind  go- 
ing in  such  a  hole !  It  is  patronized  chiefly  by  the  roughs. 
We  have  a  very  pretty  opera-house  in  town,"  he  an- 
nounced, with  some  pride. 

"  At  which  we  will  hear  nothing  of  Titania,"  appended 
Roger,  with  a  smile. 

"  Here  is  the  private  entrance.  It  is  a  horrid  little  hole," 
and  the  aristocratic  Ned  drew  up  his  nose.  "Through 
here  to  the  green-room  and  private  office." 

Rose  and  Lily  De  Vere  were  starring  it  in  fresh  pas- 
tures, and  with  new  lovers.  Still  there  was  no  lack  of  re- 
markable attractions  on  the  show-bills.  The  two  young 
men  picked  their  way  through  the  dirty,  ill-smelling  pas- 
sages, and  reached  the  desired  haven,  perfumed  with  the 
odor  of  whiskey  and  tobacco.  Mr.  King  had  just  stepped 


232  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

out,  but  would  be  in  presently.  They  sat  down  amidst  the 
disorder,  and  waited  until  patience  came  nearly  to  an  end. 

He  made  his  appearance  at  length,  —  a  short,  stout,  red- 
faced  man,  with  a  brisk,  almost  rough  business-air.  Seeing 
the  two  young  men  he  nodded,  and  said,  "  Oh !  "  with  a 
kind  of  grunt. 

Ned  Strathan  explained,  and  introduced  his  friend.  The 
story  was  gone  over  again,  interspersed  with  some  oaths 
and  forcible  adjectives.  For  Mr.  King  considered  that  he 
had  been  grossly  deceived  by  Thomas,  and  was  not  very 
complimentary  to  him  or  his  little  acrobat,  to  whom,  in- 
deed, he  allowed  very  few  charms. 

"What  has  become  of  Thomas?"  asked  Roger. 

"I  don't  know.  He  was  a  drunken  scoundrel.  He  was 
paying  a  high  price,  too,  for  the  girl ;  and  had  to  make  a 
profit  on  her.  Poor  stock,  in  my  opinion.  Might  have 
been  well  enough  once,  but  you  see  the  business  wears  out 
children,  and  when  they're  gone,  they're  gone.  A  man 
wrote  to  me  a  few  days  ago  about  it  —  I  dare  say  she's 
dead.  He  was  the  agent,  I  believe.  The  public  in  my 
line  demand  first-rate  talent,  no  half-way  work.  Though 
if  she  hadn't  been  weakly  she  might  have  done  ;  but  they 
seldom  get  over  anything  in  the  back.  No  doubt  she's  as 
well  off  dead  as  alive,  though  you  might  learn  more  about 
her  at  the  hospital.  I  don't  trouble  my  head  with  people 
when  I'm  through  with  'em,"  and  King  finished  with  a 
resolute  nod. 

Roger  obtained  the  agent's  address,  and  they  bowed 
themselves  out. 

"  What  a  vile  hole !  That  destroys  stage  glamour  effect- 
ually," said  Ned. 

"  Now,  can  we  go  to  the  hospital  ?  " 

"  There  are  two  or  three.  Let  me  see ;  we  can  take  a 
car  right  to  St.  James'.  We'll  try  that. 

It  was  the  wrong  one,  of  course.  Yet  a  little  girl  had 
been  injured  by  a  fall  and  died  there. 


ON   THE  TRACK.  233 

Then  they  found  another.  The  child  had  been  there. 
A  little  acrobat,  named  Titania  Barretti,  hurt  by  a  fall,  a 
delicate  little  thing,  sick  with  a  fever.  There  had  been  a 
good  deal  of  interest  about  her,  at  first,  but  it  died  out,  as 
such  things  are  apt  to  do.  She  was  finally  taken  to  the 
"  Home  for  the  Friendless." 

The  short  winter  day  had  drawn  to  a  close. 

"  We  must  go  home  now,"  announced  Ned.  **  Aunt 
Lucy's  tea  is  exactly  at  half-past  five,  and  it  will  never  do 
to  be  late." 

"  Where  is  this  Home  ?  "  asked  Roger. 

"  Out  in  the  suburbs.  Don't  mind  about  it  to-night. 
I've  promised  you  to  some  friends  of  mine,  a  set  of  jolly, 
musical  girls,  where  you  always  have  the  nicest  of  times. 
Then  we  will  take  a  fresh  start  in  the  morning." 

Roger  found  himself  overruled.  Indeed,  the  warmth 
and  cosiness  of  Miss  Strathan's  parlor  proved  so  enticing 
that  he  had  a  mind  to  give  up  the  nice  musical  girls.  Misa 
Strathan  was  nearing  forty,  but  as  little  like  the  traditional 
old  maid  as  possible.  Then  there  was  a  grandmother,  a 
lovely  old  lady ;  and  Miss  Katy,  a  second  or  third  cousin, 
an  invalid.  An  air  of  picturesque  refinement  pervaded  the 
house,  and  Roger's  artistic  side  was  won  immediately. 

However,  Ned  persisted  and  carried  him  off.  They 
slept  late  the  next  morning,  although  their  night's  dissipa- 
tion had  been  a  harmless  one.  Then  they  started  out  to 
discover  what  next  had  befallen  the  poor  little  acrobat. 

Mrs.  Post  received  them  politely.  She  remembered  the 
child  well,  and  was  quite  enthusiastic  about  her  sweetness 
and  beauty.  But  she  had  been  taken  away,  and  the  record 
was  searched  for  particulars. 

"  A  Mrs.  Winstead,  residence,  Arlington,  fifty  or  sixty 
miles  from  here,  a  most  beautiful  place,  I  have  heard,"  ex- 
plained Mrs.  Post.  "  Through  Mrs.  Gaylord,  one  of  the 
patronesses  of  the  Institution.  She  is  in  Europe,  or  you 


234  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

would  be  able  to  learn  all  the  particulars,  I  might  write 
and  inquire?" 

"  You  think  the  child  is  surely  there  ?  " 

"  Oh,  certainly.  If  she  had  not  suited  she  would  have 
been  returned.  I  thought  her  a  very  lovely  little  being, 
and  have  often  longed  to  hear  how  she  fared ;  but  there  are 
so  many  coming  and  going,  that  we  cannot  keep  up  with 
them  all.  The  child  had  some  friend  or  connection  in 
Paris.  She  expected  to  hear  from  her,  and  I  was  to  for- 
ward the  letter,  but  it  never  came.  You  appear  to  be 
greatly  interested  in  her  ?  "  and  Mrs.  Post  studied  him. 

"  I  am,"  replied  Roger.  "  It  is  important  that  I  should 
find  her." 

"  Are  you  a  relative  ?  n  she  ventured. 

"  No,  but  I  may  place  her  in  communication  with 
relatives,"  was  the  brief  response. 

"  I  should  be  so  rejoiced.  The  child  impressed  me  as 
being  well  born.  If  any  good  fortune  happens  to  her  will 
you  let  me  know  ?  " 

"  With  pleasure,"  replied  Roger,  bowing  his  adieu. 

"  The  old  case  of  the  needle  in  a  hay-stack,"  laughed 
Ned.  "  What  will  you  do  next  ?  " 

"  Go  to  Arlington.    Find  this  Mrs.  Winstead." 

"  Nonsense !    You  don't  mean  it ! n 

"  But  I  do  mean  it,"  said  Roger,  firmly.  **  I  am  deter- 
mined  to  find  the  child." 

"And  when  found  —  many  her.  Slightly  altered  from 
Captain  Cuttle." 

"  Now  it  is  you  who  talk  nonsense,"  returned  Roger, 
laughingly.  "I  fancy  neither  of  us  will  be  in  great  haste 
to  rush  into  matrimony.  And  you  forget  that  this  little 
creature  is  a  mere  child.  At  present  it  will  be  more  to  the 
purpose  to  inquire  about  trains  to  Arlington." 

"  Old  fellow,  you  are  not  going  to  day,  that  is  settled.  I 
will  not  be  so  out-rivalled  by  this  pretty  stage  heroine. 
Come,  you  have  only  given  me  a  bit  of  last  evening.  To- 


ON  THE  TRACK.  235 

morrow,  if  you  must,  you  can  take  the  train  to  Arlington, 
and  then  return  direct  to  New  York.  The  rest  of  to-day 
is  mine." 

Roger  yielded  to  his  friend,  and,  it  must  be  confessed, 
enjoved  his  visit.  Yet  he  was  glad  to  start  the  next  morn- 
ing, and  found  himself  on  the  way  to  Arlington  with  so 
buoyant  a  feeling,  that  he  took  it  as  an  omen  of  success. 
He  could  hardly  hope  that  this  fairy,  Titania,  would  prove 
the  lost  child,  yet  his  heart  was  set  upon  finding  her. 
With  the  help  of  Aunt  Alice  he  would  rescue  her  from  a 
hard,  dangerous  life,  and  place  her  in  the  position  that  her 
remarkable  beauty  demanded. 

It  was  a  bright,  crisp,  winter  morning,  with  floods  of 
brilliant  sunshine.  Beside  him  sat  a  plain,  middle-aged 
woman,  who  nodded  a  drowsy  accompaniment  to  the 
motion  of  the  cars.  He  read  his  paper,  noted  the  points  of 
the  wintry  landscape,  as  they  whirled  by,  counted  the 
stations,  and,  after  what  appeared  an  interminable  while, 
reached  his  destination. 

He  had  never  been  in  the  town  before,  and  was  struck 
by  its  beauty,  even  at  mid-winter.  The  long,  straight 
streets,  the  spacious  lawns  and  gardens,  the  diversity  of 
architecture,  the  general  air  of  home  comfort  and  cheer- 
fulness, pleased  him  greatly.  He  had  no  difficulty  in  find- 
ing the  Winstead  residence,  and  sent  np  his  card. 

"  Mr.  Roger  Lasselle  ! "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Winstead,  study- 
ing the  card  in  surprise.  "  Are  you  sure  it  is  not  for  Miss 
Helena?  You  are  so  stupid,  Hannah!" 

"  He  asked  for  you,  ma'am,  Mrs.  Winstead.  He  said  he 
was  a  stranger,  and  wanted  to  see  you  on  some  business," 
was  the  concise  reply. 

h  Oh,  an  agent,  I  dare  say  !  No  doubt  you  showed  him 
in  the  drawing-room.  You  have  no  judgment !"  and  the 
mistress  frowned  angrily. 

"  He's  young  and  handsome,  and  looked  like  a  gentle> 
man,"  pleaded  Hannah,  in  extenuation. 


236  LOST  IN  A   GREAT  CITY. 

Mrs.  Winstead  went  down,  presently.  As  Roger  rose 
jrom  his  seat  by  the  window,  the  lady  suddenly  smoothed 
her  ruffled  brow.  A  gentleman,  truly.  Hannah  was  not 
mistaken. 

"  I  must  beg  you  to  pardon  the  intrusion  of  a  stranger," 
Mr.  Lasselle  began,  in  his  rich,  musical  voice.  "  If  I  am 
rightly  informed,  last  July  you  took  a  little  girl  from  the 
Home  of  the  Friendless  at  L .  Is  she  still  with  you  ?  " 

The  brow  darkened  again.  The  haughty,  piercing  eyes 
were  fixed  on  the  young  man's  face. 

"Are  you  connected  with  that  Institution?"  was  the 
authoritative  query. 

"  I  am  not.  My  interest  is  in  the  child  —  to  restore  her 
to  some  friends." 

"  I  am  sorry  I  cannot  give  you  a  better  account  of  her, 
then ; "  and  the  tone  was  compounded  of  a  certain  bitter 
joy  and  irony.  "  I  am  afraid  any  friend  would  feel  rather 
disappointed  in  her." 

Roger's  heart  gave  a  great,  anxious  bound. 

"I  was  over-persuaded  into  trying  her.  It  is  a  great 
risk  to  take  a  child  from  these  public  institutions,  as  they 
are  the  very  dregs  of  humanity.  I  did  it  once  before,  and 
by  the  time  I  had  the  girl  trained  to  be  of  some  service 
she  had  grown  so  filled  with  a  sense  of  her  own  importance 
that  she  was  absolutely  insufferable.  But  one  cannot  help 
experiencing  a  feeling  of  profound  pity  for  these  street 
waifs,  and  you  are  besieged  on  the  right  and  left  to  help 
provide  for  them.  I  do  consider  it  a  great  work  of  charity. 
Gliving  your  money  is  a  simple  matter,  compared  with  it," 
silid  the  lady,  impressively. 

"  And  Titania,"  questioned  Roger. 

"They  are  all  alike,"  and  Mrs.  Winstead  waved  her 
hand  majestically.  "  Yet  I  was  deceived  in  the  child's 
looks.  I  fancied  her  a  quiet,  inoffensive  little  thing,  not 
very  bright,  perhaps,  but  capable  of  being  trained  to  do 
trifling  errands,  and  to  wait  upon  my  daughter,  who  would 


ON  THE   TRACK.  237 

have,  in  time,  been  a  most  indulgent   mistress,  indeed 
friend   as  well." 

"  You  did  not  send  her  back,"  said  Roger,  rather  tired 
of  all  this. 

"  I  am  coming  to  the  sequel.  I  found  her  indolent,  self- 
willed,  sullen,  and  deceitful.  Another  person,  no  doubt, 
would  have  returned  her  immediately,  but  I  thought  some 
one  must  work  to  save  these  poor,  miserable  creatures, 
that  are  fast  becoming  a  dangerous  part  of  all  our  cities 
I  worked  faithfully  with  her,  but  all  in  vain." 

Roger  questioned  with  his  eager  eyes  at  this  point.  The 
would  be  irnpressiveness  was  tedious. 

"  If  you  are  a  true  friend,  and  have  her  welfare  at  heart, 
you  will  be  grieved  to  learn  that  she  was  utterly  incapable 
of  appreciating  the  care  and  kindness.  Finding  that  it  was 
quite  impossible  to  do  anything  with  her  I  did  threaten  to 
send  her  back,  —  when  she  went  away." 

"Oh,  she  is  not  gone  ?  "  cried  Roger,  springing  up  with 
an  acute  sense  of  disappointment.  Was  his  search  to  fail, 
then,  after  all  ? 

"  She  disappeared  about  a  month  ago.  As  she  had  no 
money,  I  suppose  she  must  have  taken  some  articles  of 
value  and  disposed  of  them.  In  a  house  like  this,  where 
you  generally  have  trusty  servants,  you  are  not  apt  to  be 
so  careful,  and  there  are  many  trinkets  lying  around.  I 
suppose  it  was  my  duty  to  search  for  her,  and  to  have  her 
punished,  but  I  could  not  make  up  my  mind  to  such  a 
course." 

"  Then  you  have  no  clew ;  you  know  nothing  of  her  ?  " 
the  lad  asked  excitedly. 

"  I  have  no  clew,"  waving  her  hand  majestically.  w  That 
she  left  Arlington  I  am  quite  certain.  She  would  not  care 
to  stay  where  there  was  a  possibility  of  her  detection." 

Roger  felt  that  this  was  so.  He  was  bitterly  disappoint- 
ed. The  story  of  Titania's  delinquencies  had  some  effect 


238  LOST   IN   A  GREAT   CITY. 

upon  him,  though  he  felt  that  Mrs.  Post  was  as  likely  to  be 
right  in  her  estimation  as  this  exact  moralist. 

"  You  spoke  of  her  friends  ?     Where  are  they  ?  " 

Roger  flushed  with  a  touch  of  embarrassment.  How 
much  of  Titania's  history  did  this  woman  —  ah,  Roger, 
si;  could  have  annihilated  you  for  the  thought  of  such  an 
appellation  —  know  ?  Would  she  not  have  spoken  derog- 
atively  of  the  stage  episode  ?  Perhaps  she  had  not  heard 
of  it. 

"A  person  adopted  her,  who  is  now  abroad,"  began 
Roger,  bunglingly. 

"  Oh,  the  woman  cast  her  off,  as  I  understood  it.  The 
child  was  most  secretive  about  her  past  life,  and  I  judged 
that  there  were  some  discreditable  incidents  in  it.  Does 
this  person  want  her  again?" 

"  I  believe  she  does,"  said  Roger,  boldly. 

"  I  can  give  you  no  help.  The  child  had  a  great  deal  of 
vanity,  and  fancied  herself  pretty.  For  such  homeless  girls 
one  can  hardly  hope  for  the  best.  She  may  have  gone  back 
to  old  associations." 

"  I  am  sorry  to  have  given  you  so  much  trouble,"  said 
Roger,  rising.  u  You  are  quite  certain  she  is  not  in  Ar- 
lington." 

"  Oh,  quite.  You  see  Arlington  is  an  exceedingly  aris- 
tocratic town.  Hardly  another  house  would  be  open  to  a 
foundling  on  any  terms." 

w  I  am  very  sorry  to  have  missed  her.  Thanks  for  your 
courtesy;"  and  Roger  took  a  few  steps  toward  the  door. 
He  hated  to  give  up  the  search,  but  the  clew  certainly  was 
lost  here. 

Mrs.  Winstead  bowed  politely.  The  indescribable  air 
of  breeding  and  authority  kept  her  in  check  until  she  had 
gone  up-stairs. 

"I  must  say  it  is  singular,  Helena,"  she  commented, 
after  she  had  related  the  rencounter.  "  A  very  handsome 
young  man  making  minute  inquiries  about  such  a  thing  as 


ON   THE   TRACK.  239 

that  miserable  little  Jane.  It  may  be  all  right  enough. 
I  should  hate  to  misjudge  any  one,  but  it  has  a  look  I  do 
not  like.  I  should  not  have  given  her  up  to  him  without 
some  better  security  than  his  own  word.  I  felt  really  glad 
that  she  had  taken  herself  off,  and  that  no  further  compli- 
cations could  arise.  I  could  never  have  made  anything  of 
the  girl.  Roger  Lasselle !  It  is  a  stylish  name,  certainly. 
There  is  Lasselle  the  great  banker,  —  but  it  seems  as  if  / 
had  known  some  one  of  the  name ; "  and  the  lady  knit 
her  brows. 

Roger  reached  New  York  tired  and  cross.  He  was  more 
disappointed  than  he  cared  to  own.  He  talked  of  his  visit, 
but  keen -eyed  Aunt  Alice  fancied  it  had  not  been  a 
success. 

The  next  day  he  hunted  up  Mr.  Roberts  and  puzzled 
that  gentleman  greatly,  who  now  admitted  that  Mrs.  Chip- 
penham  had  sent  for  the  child,  and  some  way  they  had 
heard  she  was  dead. 

"  And  can  nothing  be  done  ?  "  asked  Roger  impatiently. 
It  was  exasperating  to  be  foiled  just  here. 

"  I  don't  know  of  anything  but  to  advertise,"  was  the 
answer. 

tt  Then  let  us  advertise,  by  all  means." 


240  LOST   IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

MISS    MADEIBA. 

IT  was  true  that  just  a  narrow  chance  had  again  inter- 
vened between  Titania  and  a  future  fairer  than  any  of  her 
dreams.  This  time  she  had  chosen  the  part  of  a  waif  and 
stray,  with  almost  pathetic  deliberation. 

Week  after  week  she  had  waited  to  hear  from  Kate,  — 
waited  in  such  feverish  anxiety  that  her  very  life  became 
centred  in  the  thought.  Sleeping  and  waking  it  haunted 
her.  Sweet  dreams  visited  her  nightly,  only  to  make  the 
days  a  more  bitter  and  miserable  reality.  Indeed,  it 
seemed  at  times  as  if  the  rule  of  Owen  Thomas  was  prefer- 
able to  that  of  her  hard  task-mistress. 

Mrs.  Winstead  acknowledged  in  her  secret  soul  that  the 
child  would  make  a  very  useful  domestic  if  properly 
trained.  It  would  of  course  be  the  salvation  of  both  soul 
and  body  not  only  to  keep  her  in  ignorance  of  any  charms 
she  might  possess,  but  to  despoil  her  of  them  as  far  as 
possible.  Her  few  garments  were  made  in  the  most  unbe- 
coming manner,  and  every  point  about  her  that  could  be 
criticised  or  ridiculed  was  treated  to  a  liberal  allowance  in 
the  most  unsparing  fashion,  until  Titania  became  almost  an 
object  of  aversion  to  herself. 

Three  months  had  gone  by  without  a  word.  Was  she 
to  remain  here  in  this  slavery  for  years  ?  Better  go  back 
to  the  stage  that  she  so  hated.  Indeed,  she  felt  that  she  had 
recovered  from  the  effects  of  both  fall  and  illness.  Some 
one  would  take  her  in  surely.  She  could  dance,  if  nothing 
else. 

The  thought  roused  her  to  new  life.     But  how  was  she 


MISS   MADEIRA.  241 

to  go  ?  She  had  not  a  penny,  and  there  was  no  one  whom 
she  dared  ask, —  not  even  Hannah,  who  had  come  to  sym- 
pathize with  her  in  various  ways.  If  she  could  get  to  New 
York  again,  —  but  it  was  a  long  way,  and,  as  she  soon 
found,  would  cost  a  great  deal. 

She  smiled  with  a  sense  of  dreary  humor  as  she  recalled 
how  she  had  once  run  away  from  Dick  Bridger.  Poor, 
dear  Dick !  and  a  tear  fell  to  the  memory  of  that  dead  and 
gone  love. 

Day  after  day  she  thought  it  over,  resolving  at  last  that 
all  she  could  do  would  be  to  walk  to  the  next  village,  some 
four  miles  distant,  and  then  trust  —  to  what?  God?  She 
knew  so  little  about  Him  now.  These  four  years  of 
heathenism  had  well-nigh  blotted  out  the  baby  faith  of 
mother-lips.  A  great  intangible  something  seemed  to  win 
her  to  repose  in  its  shadowy  arms. 

Simple  and  ignorant  as  she  was  in  some  matters,  in 
others  she  had  garnered  much  bitter  and  worldly-wise 
experience.  And  something — was  it  the  blood  of  her 
race?  —  rebelled  continually  against  this  menial  existence. 
In  the  other  life  there  had  been  hours  of  triumph,  shallow 
and  common,  perhaps,  but  still  triumph. 

One  bright  November  morning,  when  days  of  storm 
had  cleared  the  air,  Mrs.  Winstead  arrayed  herself  in  an 
ample  costume  of  silk  and  velvet,  and  stepped  into  her 
carriage.  Titania  sat  by  the  window  with  piles  of  work 
before  her.  She  had  become  quite  a  neat  and  expeditious 
seamstress  already.  As  the  wheels  crunched  over  the 
frozen  ground  her  heart  gave  a  great  leap.  She  sprang 
up  and  took  two  or  three  whirls  about  the  room  as  if  it 
had  been  a  stage.  Up-stairs  she  sped,  and  choosing  the 
best  of  her  attire  made  herself  as  respectable  as  possible. 
Her  hat  she  had  trimmed  with  some  bits  of  blue  silk 
thrown  in  the  waste-bag,  and  fortunately  a  good  thick 
shawl  had  been  added  to  her  scanty  wardrobe.  When  her 
attire  was  complete,  she  crept  down  the  stairs,  through  the 
16 


242  LOST  IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 

great  hall, and  out  at  the  front  door;  as  Sam, being  busy  at 
the  rear  of  the  house,  would  not  see  her,  and  so  could  not 
question  her.  Down  the  avenue,  like  a  little  brown  hare, 
she  fled,  but  instead  of  taking  the  main  street  turned  into 
one  less  aristocratic,  and  made  her  way  toward  the  station. 
If  she  followed  the  track  she  could  not  go  far  astray. 

How  delightful  the  sunshine  and  the  crisp  air  felt  to  her 
cheek!  A  buoyant,  exultant  sense  of  freedom  thrilled 
every  pulse.  She  did  not  mind  the  hard,  frozen  ground, 
though  it  made  rough  walking,  so  that  she  sped  along  un- 
noticed, and  there  were  not  many  familiar  eyes  to  pounce 
down  upon  her. 

She  had  been  a  prisoner  so  long.  She  ran,  and  skipped, 
and  could  have  danced  for  joy,  as  she  shook  off"  the  chains 
and  claims  of  the  slavish  life.  Now  and  then  a  train 
whizzed  by,  but  she  hardly  envied  it. 

The  small  village  came  in  sight  almost  before  she  thought. 
She  went  a  little  more  slowly.  There  was  a  pretty  sta- 
tion, with  a  great  dog  basking  in  the  sunshine  and  two 
or  three  men  lounging  about.  One  of  them  stared  at  her 
—  then  he  took  a  step  forward. 

"  Hillo !  youngster,"  he  shouted,  "  keep  away  from  that 
track.  Train  '11  be  down  in  five  minutes." 

That  was  all.  She  drew  a  long  breath  and  went  on,  but 
the  exhilaration  of  the  atmosphere  and  her  journey  were 
somewhat  dying  out.  She  was  a  little  tired  and  hungry, 
yet  she  might  as  well  go  forward.  This  place  savored  too 
much  of  Arlington,  with  its  pretty  houses  and  capacious 
grounds,  its  broad  avenues  and  air  of  quiet. 

Presently  the  sun  went  under  a  cloud,  and  the  wind 
blew  up  rather  chilly.  Her  steps  began  to  lag.  What 
should  she  do  ?  She  had  no  money  for  a  bit  of  bread, 
even,  and  she  must  stay  somewhere.  Surely  she  could  not 
walk  all  night. 

She  was  coming  in  sight  of  another  little  town.  It  waa 
quite  duskish  now.  Bells  were  ringing  and  steam-whistles 


HISS  MADEIRA.  243 

uttering  shrill  shrieks.  The  streets  and  lanes  began  to  fill 
with  people  going  home  from  work.  She  looked  at  the 
dinner  baskets  and  kettles  with  a  strange  longing,  for  now 
she  was  very  hungry,  and  very  tired,  and  shivering  with 
the  cold.  These  people  were  all  going  home,  and  she  — 

Titania  entered  the  railroad  station  and  sat  down  by  the 
stove.  Oh,  how  delightful  it  felt.  If  she  could  only  stay 
here  all  night,  she  would  not  mind  being  hungry.  People 
came  and  went,  and  no  one  remarked  her,  and  by-and-by, 
overcome  by  fatigue  and  the  pleasurable  warmth,  she  fell 
asleep. 

She  was  roused  from  her  nap  —  it  hardly  seemed  ten 
minutes  to  her,  but  it  had  in  reality  been  over  two  hours 
—  by  a  rough  grasp  on  her  shoulder,  that  she  thought  at 
the  first  instant  was  Mrs.  Winstead.  Instead  it  was  a 
rather  small  man,  with  keen,  deep-set  eyes,  and  an  enormous, 
bushy  beard.  Titania  sprang  up  in  affright. 

"  What  are  you  doing  here?  "  he  asked  sharply.  "  Have 
you  missed  your  train  ?  Where  are  you  going  ?  " 

"  Going  ?  "  and  she  stared  helplessly. 

"  Yes,  going !  For  you  can't  stay  here  all  night.  There's 
just  one  more  train  down,  the  nine-thirty,"  and  he  studied 
her  as  if  deciding  what  she  might  be,  rather  inclining  to 
the  belief  that  she  was  a  sharp  little  vagrant. 

"  Do  you  want  to  take  the  train  ?  " 

"  No,"  was  her  faltering  answer. 

«  Then  get  out  of  this." 

She  rose  without  a  word,  and  walked  away  quietly.  It 
was  very,  very  dark,  and  there  was  a  cold,  drizzling  rain. 
She  shivered  and  cast  a  regretful  glance  behind  her.  Could 
she  beg  for  a  night's  shelter. 

She  turned  up  a  dimly  lighted  street.  Bartlett  was  always 
quiet  at  this  time  in  the  evening,  but  in  a  rain,  and  to  a  lit- 
tle waif,  startlingly  dreary.  She  went  straight  on  until  she 
heard  some  steps  in  the  distance,  then  she  turned  down  a 
side  street  that  was  still  dimmer  and  more  quiet,  if  such 


244  LOST  IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 

a  thing  was  possible.  Indeed,  an  almost  ghostly  stillnesi 
reigned.  She  had  never  been  a  very  brave  child,  and 
now  the  prospect  of  spending  a  night  in  the  streets 
terrified  her  beyond  measure.  And  what  was  she  to  do 
to-morrow  ? 

And  all  the  rest  of  the  to-morrows  that  rose  up  in  such 
a  dreary  array  before  her!  How  could  she  get  to  the  city 
without  starving  by  the  way  —  or  begging  —  yes,  it  must 
come  to  that.  To-morrow  she  would  ask  some  one  for  a 
little  breakfast. 

It  began  to  rain  harder.  She  must  find  some  shelter. 
She  peered  eagerly  at  the  houses  where  there  were  lights 
in  the  windows.  Were  there  any  little  girls  within,  warm 
and  happy,  with  fathers  and  mothers  to  love  and  care  for 
them  ?  Oh,  how  fortunate  they  were !  And  now  she 
could  not  help  crying  over  her  own  sad,  lonely  fate. 

By  the  light  of  one  window  she  saw  the  covered  porch 
of  the  house  next  door.  It  was  only  a  box,  but  it  seemed 
to  promise  shelter.  She  opened  the  gate  softly,  walked  up 
the  short  path,  and  crept  in.  There  was  no  light  anywhere, 
and  she  did  not  dare  knock  at  the  door.  It  seemed  warm 
by  contrast,  so  she  felt  around  and  huddled  herself  in  the 
farthest  corner,  drawing  the  driest  part  of  the  shawl  over 
her  head.  Her  feet  were  wet,  cold,  and  muddy,  so  she 
took  off  her  shoes  and  drew  the  chilly  little  feet  under  her 
skirts,  where  they  soon  became  comfortable.  Sheltered 
from  the  wind  and  rain  she  said  a  little  prayer  and  shut 
her  eyes,  when  fatigue  and  drowsiness  mercifully  inter- 
posed. 

It  was  a  light,  uneasy  slumber,  yet  it  took  her  out  of 
herself  and  the  day's  perplexities.  Once  or  twice  a  noise 
aroused  her;  indeed,  once  the  barking  of  a  dog  so  terrified 
her  that  she  could  not  repress  a  scream.  And  presently 
the  gray  light  of  morning  began  to  dawn.  It  was  cold 
and  cloudy,  but  it  no  longer  rained.  Footsteps  began  to 
sound  in  the  streets. 


MISS  MADEIRA.  245 

Titania  roused  herself  a  little.  She  felt  stiff  and  cramped, 
and  shivered  as  if  with  an  ague.  Her  shoes  were  like  bits 
of  horn,  and  still  wet  inside.  In  spite  of  her  effort  at 
courage  the  slow  tears  filled  her  eyes. 

The  door  opened  suddenly,  and  a  woman  stood  there 
with  a  broom  in  her  hand. 

"  Oh,  get  out !  Get  away  you  great  shaggy  brute ! 
You've  gone  and  muddied  up  my  porch,  and  I'm  alwers 
afeared  of  dogs.  Oh,  goodness,  gracious  me  !  And  it  isn't 
a  dog  at  all !  Why,  where  did  you  come  from  ?  And  you 
haven't  slept  there  all  night;  and  bless  my  soul,  it's  a 
little  girl ! " 

"  Oh,  don't  drive  me  away ! "  almost  shrieked  Titania. 
«  I  did  sleep  here  all  night.  I  had  no  place  to  go,  and  it 
rained  so  hard." 

The  woman  still  stared  at  her,  with  the  upraised  broom 
in  her  hand.  She  was  very  tall  and  very  thin,  and,  what 
with  her  scant  skirts  and  her  long  arms,  her  long  thin 
neck  and  her  long-featured  face,  she  looked  as  if  she  had 
gone  through  some  peculiar  process  of  being  drawn  out  to 
the  very  farthest  extent.  Then  her  forehead  was  very 
high,  and  her  pale  sandy  hair  was  drawn  up  to  the  top  in 
a  knot,  and  fastened  with  a  bit  of  silver  comb. 

"  Where  did  you  come  from  ? "  she  asked,  at  length, 
letting  the  broom  drop  at  her  side.  "  Or  do  you  belong  to 
a  gang  that  I've  heerd  tell  off,  cause  I  haven't  anything 
worth  stealing,  as  I  may  as  well  tell  you  first  as  last.  I'm 
a  lone,  lorn  woman,  and  go  out  dress-making  at  six 
shillings  a  day.  But  goodness  gracious  me  !  Do  come  in 
and  get  warm.  I'm  afeared  of  dogs,  as  I  told  you,  but  I'd 
be  sorry  to  see  one  freeze  or  starve  on  my  hands.  Is  them 
your  shoes  ? " 

"Yes,"  replied  Titania,  half  smiling  at  the  grotesque 
harangue.  "  They  were  so  wet  last  night." 

"  And  you  staid  here  all  night,  out  in  the  cold,  as  if 
'twas  a  heathen  world,  and  no  shelter  for  a  human  being. 


246  LOST  IN  A   GREAT  CITY. 

I'm  poor  enough,  but  I've  always  had  a  bed,  a  good  feathei 
bed,  too,  —  my  great  aunt  gave  it  to  me  for  my  name,  — 
and  you  curled  up  here  just  as  a  dog  would,  and  slept. 
And  where's  your  mother  ?  " 

"  My  own  mamma  died  when  I  was  ever  so  little ; "  and 
Titania  rose  out  of  her  lair. 

"And  you've  slept  all  night  in  them  damp  clothes;  it's 
enough  to  give  you  your  death  of  danger.  Come  in. 
You're  sure  you  don't  belong  to  any  gang  ?  " 

Titania  underwent  another  sharp  scrutiny. 

"I  don't  belong  to  anybody.  I'll  tell  you  all  about  it  if 
you  will  let  me.  And  I  will  work  for  you.  I  can  sew 
quite  well,"  the  child  cried,  eagerly,  her  pale  little  face 
lightened  by  a  sudden  glow  of  hope. 

Titania  picked  up  her  shoes  and  stepped  inside.  Her 
hostess  set  down  the  broom,  bolted  the  door,  led  the  way 
through  a  tiny  narrow  hall  that  seemed  to  finish  with  a 
door  on  one  side  and  a  stairway  at  the  end. 

"  Come  right  into  the  kitchen,  it's  good  and  warm. 
Kettle's  bilin'  a'ready.  I  do  say  for  it,  there's  nothing  so 
cheerful  as  a  kettle  bilin'.  I  read  a  story  about  it  once, 
though  I'm  a  church-member,  and  don't  believe  in  stories 
that  are  vain  and  trifling,  when  you  must  give  an  account 
at  the  last  day.  But  I  couldn't  help  liking  it,  though 
Miss  Burgess  has  a  whole  library  full,  and  that  among  'em, 
and  a  better  Christian  woman  I  never  see.  There,  sit 
down  right  here  by  the  stove,  —  and  to  think  you  slept  out 
of  doors  in  the  cold  all  night.  There,  don't  cry.  You 
don't  look  as  if  you'd  been  among  bad  people,  though  there 
was  Alec  Simpson  in  the  bank,  —  and  a  powerful  exhorter, 
and  a  master  hand  at  making  a  prayer ;  why,  folks  said 
he  ought'er  be  a  minister,  and  I'm  sure  I  thought  so  too, 
for  he  was  the  very  salt  of  the  earth,  —  and  he  went  off  with 
heaps  and  heaps  of  money.  But  you  can't  most  always  tell, 
and  looks  are  sometimes  deceiving.  Oh,  don't  cry  ! " 

The  warmth  and  cosiness  had  so  stirred  the  child's  heart 


MISS  MADERIA.  247 

that  the  tense  nerves  relaxed  suddenly,  and  her  sobbing 
was  fairly  hysterical.  The  woman  looked  at  her  in  dismay. 

"  Oh,  don't  mind  me,"  was  the  broken  exclamation. 
"  It's  all  so  nice,  and  I'm  so  tired,  and  I  didn't  have  any- 
thing to  eat  after  breakfast  yesterday,  and  sleeping  in  the 
cold  — ." 

"  There,  don't  cry  so,  you  poor  dear.  And  your  clothes 
are  all  damp,  too,  and  whatever  shall  I  do,  for  my  gowns 
are  too  big,  and  my  petticoats  would  be  miles  too  long, 
you're  such  a  mite  of  a  thing.  Were  you  bad  treated  ? 
There,  you  best  to  have  some  lavender,  red  lavender,  I 
alwers  take  it  when  I'm  beat  out  and  nervous.  And  I 
have  a  sack  that  is  nice  and  warm,  and  it  '11  come  most  down 
to  your  feet,  and  some  woollen  stockings  that  I've  knit  for 
my  sister's  little  boy." 

The  good  woman  bustled  about,  hunting  up  the  garments, 
while  Titania  made  a  great  effort  to  check  the  sobbing,  and 
the  quaint  room  partly  diverted  her  attention.  There  was 
a  thick,  soft,  rag-carpet  on  the  floor,  some  very  old-fashioned 
splint-seat  chairs,  with  patchwork  cushions,  a  round  table 
in  one  corner  surmounted  by  a  great  work  basket,  and 
another  that  served  for  dining  purposes.  There  were  some 
pictures  hung  way  up  to  the  ceiling,  and  a  pair  of  fancy 
painted  bellows  one  side  of  the  chimney,  while  on  the 
other  hung  a  stack  of  holders,  in  a  variety  of  colors.  On 
the  mantelpiece  was  nearly  every  variety  of  ornament,  and 
a  corner  cupboard  had  glass  doors,  through  which  shone 
pewter  platters,  scoured  to  the  brightness  of  silver,  and 
antique  dark-blue  ware. 

"  Now  you  just  try  to  get  into  these,"  said  the  rather 
thin,  but  kindly  voice  at  her  elbow,  which  made  Titania 
start,  "and  then  yours  can  dry.  Happens  so  lucky  I'm 
not  going  out  to-day.  You  see  Mrs.  Stent  had  word 
yest'day  that  her  mother  was  took  with  a  stroke,  and  if 
the  worst  comes  they'll  want  mournin',  and,  says  she, 
'  Miss  Maderia,  'tain't  no  use  goin'  on  till  I  get  back  and 


248  LOST   IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 

know  a  little  how  things  are  going  to  turn.'  And  now 
you  just  take  off  your  dress;  why,  you're  nice  an'  tidy  like, 
and  I  can't  understand  how  you  come  to  sleep  in  the  streets 
all  night !  There,  you  look  something  like  a  cat  in  a  pillow- 
slip, but  there'll  be  plenty  of  room  to  turn,  and  massy  me ! 
what  bits  of  feet ! "  glancing  at  them  in  amazement. 

"  Oh,  you  are  so  good ! "  and  Titania  caught  the  bony 
hand  in  her  soft,  plump  little  palms,  and  covered  it  with 
kisses. 

Miss  Madeira  looked  bewildered. 

"  I  will  tell  you  how  it  all  was,"  Titania  began,  eagerly. 
"  I  am  not  a  —  anything  that  is  bad ;  but  I  ran  away  from 
a  woman  who  had  no  right  to  keep  me,  and  who  was  very 
cruel.  She  cut  off  all  my  beautiful  hair.  And  if  you  will 
only  give  me  something  to  eat  —  and  I  want  to  go  to  New 
York." 

"  Why,  you're  all  of  a  tremble,  as  if  you  had  an  ague ; 
and  I  don't  wonder,  sleeping  out  on  that  porch  all  night ! 
Why  didn't  you  knock  ?  I  'm  a  bit  timid,  living  alone ; 
and  one  hears  so  many  things,  and  I  bolt  the  doors,  and  I 
have  tight  shutters  on  the  lower  floor,  with  real  old-fash- 
ioned bolts  too,  and  I  do  say  for  it  that  I'm  safe,  with 
God  a-watchin'  over  me ;  because,  you  know,  David  said 
if  He  didn't  keep  the  city,  the  watchmen  would  wake  in 
vain ;  though  'pears  to  me  'twould  a  been  better  to  have 
had  'em  awake  all  the  time  as  they  do  now ;  but  then  the 
Jews  had  their  way  of  doing  things,  aria  we  have  ours  in 
the  light  of  Gospel  times.  But  I  was  going  to  give  you 
Borne  red  lavender.  There  ain't  nothing  like  it,  when  you 
are  all  tired  out,  and  overwrought  and  stirred  up  generally. 
Here,  now  —  and  it  don't  taste  bad  at  all.  If  you  don't 
get  an  awful  cold  you'll  be  very  lucky." 

Titania  swallowed  the  lavender.  Then  Miss  Madeira 
put  her  in  the  Boston  rocker,  and  placing  a  block  of  hard 
wood  in  the  oven,  bade  her  put  her  feet  on  that  and  get 
warm  through  and  through.  She  looked  at  her  cakes, 


MISS   MADEIRA.  249 

afterwards,  put  on  the  griddle,  and  began  to  arrange  the 
table. 

Titania  shut  her  eyes,  too  happy  and  comfortable  to  stir. 
How  good  this  queer,  tall,  thin  Miss  Madeira  was!  And 
what  a  funny  name ! 

"  I  alwers  drink  tea,"  announced  that  lady,  so  suddenly 
that  Titania  almost  sprang  out  of  her  chair.  "May  be 
you  don't  like  it  as  well  if  you've  been  used  to  coffee ;  but 
my  father  didn't  use  to  let  us  girls  have  either.  He  said  it 
spoiled  the  complexion.  And  do  you  eat  buckwheats  ?  " 

"  I  like  —  everything,"  said  Titania.  "And  you  are  so 
good ! "  With  that  she  gave  Miss  Madeira  a  sleepily 
grateful  look,  tinctured  with  a  weak  smile. 

"  Then  I  '11  begin  to  bake,  for  I  have  a  bit  of  cold  meat, 
and  some  nice  head-cheese  that  I  made  myself.  And  if  I 
do  say  it,  —  self-praise  being  no  recommendation, — I  make 
as  good  griddle-cakes  as  anybody.  I  alwers  take  my 
breakfast  at  home ;  for  where  people  trust  to  an  Irish  girL 
buckwheats  are  never  fit  to  eat.  If  there's  anything  I  do 
abominate,  it's  heavy,  soggy,  sour  griddle-cakes.  There, 
now,  isn't  that  like  a  puff?  and  browned  to  a  turn.  What- 
ever is  worth  doing  is  worth  doing  well,  my  old  grand- 
mother used  to  say." 

Miss  Madeira's  face  beamed  with  heat  and  pleasure,  and 
Titania  could  not  help  smiling.  She  was  drawn  to  her  by 
some  potent,  unseen  influence,  just  as  she  had  once  been 
drawn  to  Dolly  St.  John.  Yet  how  different  the  two 
women  were ! 

"Now,  just  sit  by.  Cakes  are  nothing  if  you  can't  have 
'em  hot.  Piling  a  great  stack  on  a  platter  spoils  'em, 
takes  off  the  crispy  edges  and  the  puffiness;  and  when  a 
thing  is  at  its  best  then  is  the  time  to  eat  it.  I  remember 
how  my  old  grandmother  used  to  put  away  cake  and  pre- 
serves, and  they  a-getting  spoiled  and  mouldy,  and  next 
summer  no  one  caring  for  them  with  plenty  of  fresh  things 
to  eat.  Right  here,  dear.  I  alwers  sit  there ;  and  I  Ve 


250  LOST   IN   A   GREAT  CITY. 

Hved  alone  by  myself  twelve  years  next  Candlemas* 
day." 

Titania  took  the  seat  assigned  her.  How  fragrant  the 
cakes  were  to  the  hungry  child !  and  the  slices  of  cold 
beef  proved  deliciously  appetizing.  It  seemed  as  if  she 
should  never  be  able  to  eat  enough  ;  and  would  not  good 
Miss  Madeira  feel  disgusted  with  her?  Had  she  abso- 
lutely fallen  into  fairy-land  ? 

M I  knew  you'd  like  'em ! "  exclaimed  Miss  Madeira,  tri- 
umphantly. "And  now,  when  you've  eaten  nothing  since 
yesterday  morning,  you  must  make  a  good  breakfast,  and 
then  you  shall  tell  me  all  about  it.  I  do  believe  you  tell 
the  truth." 

"  Oh,  Miss  Madeira,  I  couldn't  tell  you  a  lie  when  you 
have  been  so  good  I "  and  the  soft,  dark  eyes  filled  with 
tears. 

"  But,  you  see,  it's  so  strange  that  a  little  girl  like  you, 
and  pretty,  too,  —  though  the  pomps  and  vanities  of  this 
world  and  the  deceitfulness  of  riches,  —  though  what  that 
has  to  do  with  it  I  don't  just  see,  but  beauty  is  vain  and  a 
fair  woman  is  deceitful,  —  I  believe  that's  somewhere  in 
Proverbs,  —  and  dark  women  are  as  likely  to  be  deceitful, 
because,  you  see,  Solomon  knew  most  about  the  Egyp- 
tians, and  they're  all  dark,  and  Jewesses  that  I  ever  saw ; 
and  isn't  that  cake  just  a  picter,  now?"  pausing,  with  the 
uplifted  knife  in  her  hand  with  which  she  had  just  been 
turning  it.  "  I  declare,  it  does  me  good  to  see  you  eat ! 
It  happened  so  lucky  that  I  wasn't  going  out  to-day ;  for 
it's  a  longish  walk  to  Mrs.  Stent's,  and  car-fares  six  cents 
now  where  they  were  five  before;  and  two  cents  a  day  — 
twice  six  —  twelve  cents  a  week,  my  dear ! "  triumphantly, 
as  if  she  had  been  working  out  a  problem  in  algebra. 

Then  she  sat  down  and  ate  two  cakes,  but  started  up  in 
dismay,  her  eyes  fairly  wild  with  surprise. 

"  Why,  you  ain't  a-drawing  back  a'ready ! "  she  ex- 
claimed. "  There's  enough  for  another  griddle  fall.  I 


MISS   MADEIRA.  2F 

mixed  by  pure  accident  last  night,  pouring  in  water  twice, 
and  never  knowing  there  was  a  Providence,  and  you 
a-sleeping  out  on  that  porch  all  night,  and  being  sent  to 
my  very  door,  like  angels,  unaware.  But  you  must  eat 
another  cake  ;  or  would  you  like  a  bit  of  bread  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Miss  Madeira,  it  is  all  so  nice,  and  I  have  had  a 
feast!  I  am  so  thankful!  But  I  couldn't  eat  another 
mouthful.  And  it  is  just  like  a  fairy-story,  and  you  are 
better  even  than  Cinderella's  godmother.  If  you'll  let 
me,  I  will  tell  you  every  bit  of  my  story,  though  Mrs. 
Post  said  —  "  and  Titania's  face  flushed  a  delicate  scarlet. 

"  You've  belonged  to  nice  folks,  I  can  see  that ;  but  if 
your  mother's  dead,  and  you  a-being  tossed  about  the 
world  and  treated  badly,  —  and  may  be  I'd  run  away  my- 
self. I  used  to  think  about  it  sometimes  when  I  was  a 
little  girl.  My  father  was  one  of  the  old-fashioned  kind, 
powerful  strict  to  a  bow  or  a  posy-bunch  on  your  hat,  and 
homespun  gray  in  your  dresses  when  other  girls  had  blue 
and  red ;  but  it  was  right  that  I  should  a-been  delivered 
from  the  pomps  and  vanities  of  the  world  in  my  youth ; 
though  'pears  to  me  dress-making  is  just  a  way  of  pomp- 
ing  to  other  people,  and  bringing  in  vanities  with  ruffles 
and  overskirts,  and  sometimes  I  wonder  if 'tis  right.  Then 
Miss  Burgess  says,  '  Now,  Miss  Madeira,'  says  she, '  don't 
you  take  the  burthen  of  other  people  on  your  soul.  Let 
'em  answer  for  their  own  ruffles; '  —  not  as  I  do  very  much 
of  that ;  mine  is  the  old-fashioned  kind,  when  they  called 
it  manter-making.  Won't  you  even  have  another  cup  of 
tea?" 

"  No,  thank  you.  It  has  been  a  splendid  feast,"  and  the 
beautiful  dark  eyes  glowed  with  gratitude.  "  And  now  if 
you  would  let  me  help  wash  up  the  cups  and  plates  ?  I 
used  to  wash  all  the  dessert  dishes  and  silver  at  —  "  but 
she  paused,  lest  the  name  might  lead  to  detection.  Yet 
surely  Miss  Madeira  would  not  send  her  back !  Her  heart 
warmed  to  the  plain,  quaint  spinster,  and  for  a  moment  a 


LOST  IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 

vision  of  living  with  her  filled  Titania's  heart  with  a  thrili 
of  joy. 

"  No,  dear,  you  just  go  back  to  that  rocking-chair,  and 
rest.  My !  but  you  do  look  like  a  rose  now  that  you're 
warmed  up  a  little.  I  declare  for  it  you  are  :.  picter,  and 
it  makes  me  a*  most  sorry  that  beauty  is  vain  when  it's 
so  pretty  to  look  at.  And  the  Lord  made  too,  and  I  could 
never  get  it  quite  straight  in  my  mind  why  it  was  sinful." 

"  Oh,  I  think  I  know,  Miss  Madeira,"  cried  the  child. 
"It  is  because  other  people  make  you  do  things,  and  if  you 
were  ugly  there  wouldn't  such  crowds  come  to  look  at  you. 
But  then  you  don't  make  yourself  pretty,  and  oh,  do  you 
suppose  God  has  anything  to  do  with  it  ?  " 

"My  dear,  I  hope  you  ain't  an  infidel,  and  so  young, 
too!"  said  Miss  Madeira,  aghast. 

"  Will  you  please  let  me  tell  you  what  I  have  been  ? 
Mrs.  Post  said  I  had  better  not ;  but  I  want  you  to  know, 
you  are  so  good ; "  and  Titania  looked  up  wistfully. 


HOME  AND   LOVE.  253 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

BOMB    AND   LOVE. 

tt  YES,  my  dear,  you  shall  tell  me.  I  hope  it  isn't  any* 
thing  wrong,"  said  Miss  Madeira,  with  real  solicitude, 
"for  you  see  I've  taken  a  liking  to  you  already, and  me  a 
poor,  lorn,  lone  woman,  without  a  chick  or  a  child  ;  though 
why  chickens  should  be  reckoned  a  comfort  I  never  could 
understand,  —  alwers  a-getting  in  your  neighbor's  garden, 
and  they  a-quarrelling  about  'em.  Now  you  just  sit  there 
and  rock,  for  rocking  is  very  comforting,  I've  found,  when  I 
had  heaps  of  worries,  and  you've  no  call  to  tell  what  isn't 
true  on  a  full  stomach." 

"  I  never  did  tell  a  lie,  dear  Miss  Madeira.  Dick  Bridger 
used  to  say  so,"  and  Titania  raised  her  head  in  the  pride 
of  innocence. 

"  Begin  way  back  at  the  beginning,  when  your  mar  died. 
And  where  is  your  par?  " 

"  I  don't  know  about  him.  He  went  away  when  I  was 
very  little.  And  then  mamma  died,  and  went  to  heaven, 
and  Maggie,  that  was  mamma's  maid,  came  to  New  York, 
to  find  papa.  She  wanted  to  be  my  mamma  then,"  and 
Titania  sighed. 

"  And  you  didn't  like  her  for  a  stepmother,"  cried  Miss 
Madeira.  "  What  made  your  father  marry  her  ?  " 

"But  we  never  found  papa.  And  then  I  was  lost. 
There  was  a  great  street  full  of  wagons  and  people." 

"  You  don't  mean  it !  And  you  haven't  been  wandering 
about  ever  since!  "  interrupted  her  listener.  For  Miss  Ma- 
deira, in  her  amazement,  let  fall  her  dishcloth,  and  stared 
helplessly. 


LObT  IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 

Titania  went  on  with  her  story,  rendered  fragmentary  by 
;he  running  comments  of  Miss  Madeira,  in  which  seemed 
expressed  every  phase  of  feeling,  but  astonishment  predom- 
inated. Tim  Chafney,  Mother  Mell,  the  man  in  the  dark 
little  place  that  she  was  quite  sure  was  a  prison,  and  then 
Dick  Bridger.  She  remembered  it  all  so  minutely,  poor 
child.  Indeed,  there  were  hours  and  scenes  stamped  in- 
delibly upon  her  soul  that  she  could  never  forget  to  her 
dying  day.  But  with  the  chivalrous  tenderness  of  her 
nature  toward  a  friend  she  had  loved  so  dearly  as  her  hero, 
Dick,  she  caid  nothing  about  the  hardships  of  her  training. 

"  Trapeze ! "  ejaculated  Miss  Madeira.  "  There's  some- 
thing I've  heard  the  boys  sing  in  the  street  —  not  that  I 
pay  much  attention  to  vain  and  idle  words  —  about  a  flying- 
trapeze,  and  I  always  thought  it  was  some  kind  of  a  bat  or 
a  sea-serpent ;  but  they  don't  make  'em  out  of  little  children, 
do  they  ?  Well,  I'm  clear  beat,"  and  she  sat  down,  polish- 
ing the  kettle  lid  vigorously  with  her  apron,  and  never 
noticing  tho  blunder.  "You  see  my  sister  she  married  a 
sea-captain,  and  I've  heerd  him  tell  stories  about  the  sea- 
serpent,  though  why  folks  go  to  look  at  'em  —  and  now  see 
that  right  on  my  apron,  clean  yesterday  ?  " 

"Oh,  Miss  Madeira,  it  has  nothing  to  do  with  that,"  and 
Titania  could  not  forbear  smiling.  "  It  means  wonderful 
and  daring  feats  upon  the  stage  of  a  theatre,  and  then  there 
is  tight-rope  dancing,  and  dancing  on  a  great  high  pedes- 
tal, and  flying  leaps,  and  all  that.  Everybody  applauds 
so!" 

"You  don't  mean  that  you've  been  on  a  stage  at  a 
theatre,  and  all  dressed  in  tights,  a  little  girl  like  you ! " 

"Oh,  Miss  Madeira,  how  could  I  help  it!"  she  cried, 
imploringly.  "  He  trained  me  just  for  that.  Ah !  you 
don't  know.  I  might  have  been  starved,  and  beaten,  and 
turned  out  of  doors.  And  Dick  loved  me  so !  He  used 
to  carry  me  in  his  arms,  and  keep  me  nice  and  warm,  and 
read  to  me  when  I  couldn't  sleep,  and  was  so  good.  Oh, 


HOME   AND   LOVE.  255 

dear,  dear  Dick,  if  you  only  could  come  back  again  !  "  and 
the  lustrous  eyes  swam  in  tears.  "  Miss  Madeira,  I  said 
I  wouldn't  tell  a  lie.  Mrs.  Post  told  me  that  I  had  better 
not  say  anything  about  it,  that  everybody  would  think  it 
dreadful,  and  not  want  me  in  their  houses ;  but  it  was  ever 
so  much  better  than  living  with  Mrs.  Winstead." 

"  And  you've  danced  on  the  stage !  " 

Miss  Madeira  rose  up  stiffly,  and  then  fell  down,  for  no 
other  term  could  be  applied  to  the  motion  with  which  she 
sank  into  her  chair,  limp  as  if  her  bones  had  suddenly  been 
transformed  into  cartilage,  and  her  garments  into  a  wet 
towel. 

"  Oh,  dear  Miss  Madeira ! "  —  and  now  Titania  knelt  at 
her  feet,  laying  her  sunny  head  in  the  other's  lap,  and  kiss- 
ing the  bony  hands,  —  "  Oh,  dear  Miss  Madeira,  don't  think 
it  made  me  bad,  and  don't  turn  me  away.  I  couldn't  help 
it.  Dick  Bridger  was  a  great  man,  r.nd  I  was  afraid  of  him 
at  first.  I  had  to  do  it.  But  oh,  I  don't  want  to  ever  again, 
if  any  one  will  only  let  me  work.  Only  Mrs.  Winstead  was 
so  hard,  and  I  didn't  always  have  enough  to  eat." 

Miss  Madeira  looked  into  the  sweet,  shining  eyes,  so 
proudly  clear  and  honest,  and  at  the  scarlet  lips,  so  en- 
treating in  their  wonderful  beauty.  The  cheek  against 
her  hand  was  like  a  rose-leaf,  the  golden  hair  clustering  in 
infantile  rings  across  the  pure  white  forehead  reminded  her 
of  some  picture  of  an  angel.  Could  so  sweet  and  fair  a 
thing  have  grown  foul  in  that  pestilential  atmosphere? 
The  traditions  of  her  class  were  strong  upon  Miss  Madeira, 
who  had  never  been  out  of  a  simple  little  country  town  in 
her  life,  and  yet  there  was  something  deep  in  her  soul 
stronger  still,  a  faith  in  the  simplicity  of  childhood,  a  trust 
in  the  fair  young  face  before  her. 

"Well,  I'm  sure  I  don't  know,  and  you  look  like  an 
angel,  and  you  couldn't  lead  me  astray,  I  don't  suppose, 
there  being  no  theatre  in  Bartlett,  but  only  now  and  then 
minstrels  in  Copp's  Hall,  and  a  circus  on  the  green  — " 


256  LOST   IN    A   GREAT   CITY. 

M  Oh,  did  you  ever  go  to  a  circus  ?  "  cried  Titania,  hei 
eyes  sparkling. 

"  Never  but  once,  my  dear,"  and  Miss  Madeira  blushed 
up  to  the  roots  of  her  sparse  sandy  hair.  "  It  was  when 
Captain  Mullins  was  keeping  company  with  my  sister,  and 
the  wedding-day  and  all  set,  and  fruit  cake  made,  father 
being  dead  then  five  year  or  more,  or  I  suppose  'Mirny 
wonldn't  have  durst  to,  and  hardly  to  get  married,  father 
was  that  strict,  an'  alwers  thinking  we  were  little  girls. 
Well,  there  came  a  circus  to  town,  and  everybody  was 
going,  though  the  next  Sunday  Elder  Bond  preached  a 
powerful  sermon ;  but  gracious  me,  folks  had  been  and  the 
money  was  spent,  and  it  was  like  locking  the  stable  door 
when  the  colt's  been  stolen.  I  dare  say  he  would  have 
preached  it  before,  only  he  didn't  know  anything  about  it ; 
and  Jemima,  she  was  that  hot  foot  to  go,  and  to  have  me 
—  she  was  ten  year  younger  than  me,  there  being  some 
children  lost  between,  boys;  but  may  be  they  mightn't 
a-turned  out  well  if  they  had  lived,  you  can't  most  always 
tell,  and  Captain  Mullins  wouldn't  hear  of  nothing  to  the 
contrary,  and  so  we  went." 

"  And  was  there  any  little  girl  who  went  flying  through 
hoops,  and  stood  on  a  man's  shoulder  or  his  hand,  or  bal- 
anced herself  with  a  pole,  or  performed  wonderful  feats  ?  " 
asked  Titania,  breathlessly. 

a  Yes,  there  was.  She  rode,  too,  and  it  seemed  as  if  she 
would  break  her  neck.  And  yes,  she  danced  on  a  rope, 
and  I  made  just  sure  she  would  fall ;  and  how  can  they 
stick  on  so?" 

tt  I  wasn't  trained  to  ride,  but  I  did  all  the  rest,  and  a 
great  flying  leap  that  people  crowded  to  see.  I  used  to 
hold  my  breath  at  first,  for  it  seemed  as  if  I  must  be  dashed 
to  pieces.  And  you  didn't  quite  hate  that  little  girl  ?  " 

"  Hate  her  ?     Why,  no,  my  dear." 

u  Then  don't  hate  me.    Let  me  tell  you  all  the  rest,  and 


HOME  AND   LOVE.  257 

how  hard  it  was,  for  no  one  ever  took  care  of  me  again  like 
my  dear  Dick." 

"  If  you  don't  mind  I  will  get  some  sewing,  as  the  dishes 
are  washed,  and  I  won't  sweep  up  just  now;  but  I  wasn't 
brought  up  to  idle  away  my  time,  and  when  I  was  ten 
year  old  I  had  five  patchwork  quilts  pieced ;  but  gracious 
me,  I've  never  needed  'em,  and  shall  leave  'em  all  to 
'Mirny's  children,  —  two  little  girls  she's  got,  and  two  boys, 
—  and  when  I  was  only  four,  mother  used  to  make  me  say 
the  Busy  Bee  — 

'  And  Satan  finds  some  mischief  still 
For  idle  bands  to  do.' 

But  they  ain't  brought  up  that  way  nowadays,  and  nobody 
knits  stockings  or  does  fine  darning.  Patching 's  spoiled 
it  all,  and  sewing-machines  have  just  ruined  women's 
nice  work,  and  I  wouldn't  take  one  of  the  nasty,  noisy, 
puckering  things  that  can't  sew  a  smooth  seam,  and  use  a 
sight  of  cotton,  with  long  ends  going  to  waste.  There,  my 
dear,  I've  kinder  set  up  the  idea  of  your  being  on  the  stage 
before  me,  and  it  don't  seem  so  overwhelming  like  as  it  did 
at  first ;  and  now  you'll  go  on  about  your  Dick,  as  you  call 
him,  though  children  in  my  day  alwers  said  mister,  except 
Quakers,  who  alwers  call  first  names." 

Titania  took  up  the  thread  of  her  story  again.  The 
journeys  and  triumphs  with  Dick,  his  accident  and  death, 
over  which  the  soft  voice  trembled  and  the  tender  eyes 
were  tearful ;  the  hotel  life,  Kate's  marriage,  and  her  trans- 
fer to  Owen  Thomas. 

"  And  she  could  go  off  and  leave  you  after  loving  you 
like  a  child!"  interrupted  Miss  Madeira  indignantly.  "And 
I  don't  believe  that  chap  cared  half  as  much  for  her  as  he 
did  for  the  money,  for  men  are  deceitful  creatures,  and 
smooth-spoken,  and  ready  to  take  everything.  But  'twould 
serve  her  just  right." 

The  hardships  of  the  life  that  followed  brought  the  hon- 
est tears  to  Miss  Madeira's  eyes.  They  ran  down  her  long 
17 


258  LOST  IN  A   GREAT  CITT. 

nose,  and  she  sniffed  a  little,  and  coughed,  and  rubbed  her 
spectacles,  but  finally  gave  way  to  a  good  hearty  cry,  drop- 
ping her  work,  and  clasping  Titania  in  her  arras. 

"  You  poor  lamb !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  What  a  mercy 
your  back  wasn't  broke  and  a  hump  growing  out  of  your 
shoulders ;  and  that  man  ought  to  be  sent  to  prison  for 
,cruelty,  and  a  book  wrote  about  him.  And  his  own  poor 
little  boy  a  cripple  from  misconduct  and  temper ;  and  St. 
Paul  was  about  right  when  he  said,  them  as  staid  single 
did  better.  Marriage  is  a  great  risk,  and  even  poor 'Mirny, 
whose  husband  wouldn't  lift  a  finger  to  her,  but  he  being 
away  so  much  of  the  time,  and  she  having  babies  to  take 
care  of  all  the  time,  and  I  do  believe  I'm  better  off  without 
a  chick  or  a  child ;  but  you  can't  most  always  tell.  And 
there  you  was  all  alone  in  a  hospital,  a  poor  little  mite  that 
should  have  had  a  mar  a-taking  care  of  you.  And  what 
then  ?  I  declare  it's  just  like  a  story,  and  you  won't  think 
me  foolish  for  crying  ?  I  always  cry  over  Joseph  and  his 
brethren,  to  this  day." 

Foolish  !  Why,  it  seemed  to  Titania  as  if  she  could 
iust  adore  Miss  Madeira  with  her  queer,  jumbled-together 
sentences,  and  her  stiff,  angular  figure  that  held  so  merci- 
ful and  kindly  a  soul. 

There  was  not  much  more  until  she  came  to  Mrs.  Win- 
stead.  She  had  gone  briefly  over  it  all ;  the  stern  self- 
repression  in  which  she  had  held  herself  the  last  two  years 
was  not  conducive  of  garrulity.  The  smaller  trials  and 
sufferings  she  scarcely  touched  upon.  She  felt  very  bitter 
and  indignant  against  Mrs.  Winstead ;  indeed,  it  seemed 
as  if  she  could  forgive  the  cruelty  and  neglect  of  Owen 
Thomas  more  easily. 

"  And  you  don't  mean  that  you  was  took  to  Arlington  ?  " 
began  Miss  Madeira  in  surprise.  "  Away  off  there  from 
New  York!" 

"  But  you  will  not  send  me  back  ?  "  cried  Titania.  "  She 
has  no  right  to  me.  And  she  said  every  day  that  I  was 


HOME   AND   LOVE.  259 

not  worth  the  food  and  clothes ;  but  I  worked  all  the  time 
indeed,  and  ripped  and  sewed,  and  scarcely  spent  an  idle 
moment.  Oh,  Miss  Madeira,  if  you  will  let  me  work  for 
you  until  I  can  hear  from  Kate,  I  will  do  anything.  You 
are  so  kind,  so  sweet." 

So  sweet !  It  touched  a  heart  that  had  never  known 
love  to  any  extent.  Miss  Madeira's  parents  had  been  of 
the  old-fashioned  type,  hard,  stern,  cold.  Girlhood  and 
womanhood  had  wasted  away,  with  no  taste  of  that  deep, 
exquisite  enjoyment  that  has  the  subtile  flavor  of  youth 
and  love.  She  had  sorrowed  decorously  for  her  father, 
and  perhaps  with  a  touch  more  of  pity  for  her  mother. 
Jemima  had  gone  to  a  cousin's,  and  there  met  her  sea- 
captain  who  made  short  wooing,  and  took  her  on  a  wed- 
ding trip  to  Brazil,  and  from  thence  back  to  Maine,  where 
she  had  remained  until  about  three  years  ago,  when  she 
had  come  to  New  York.  Once  she  had  made  a  visit  at 
her  sister's,  but  Miss  Madeira  never  had  found  the  courage 
to  return  it.  She  always  meant  to,  but  it  looked  such  a 
great  undertaking.  The  sisters  had  drifted  far  apart,  and 
the  more  sprightly,  consequential  Mrs.  Mullins  felt  secretly 
ashamed  of  her  plain,  old-fashioned  relative. 

She  had  her  friends,  Miss  Madeira,  but  no  one  came  very 
near.  She  went  to  church  ;  she  was  asked  out  to  tea  now 
and  then  ;  and  she  '  sewed  round,'  doing  the  plainer  parts 
of  dress-making,  altering  and  turning  old  gowns  for  sev- 
enty-five cents  a  day,  when  stylish  dressmakers  had  two 
dollars.  She  owned  her  little  cottage  of  four  rooms:  the 
paternal  Madeira  had  not  accumulated  much  of  this  world's 
goods  for  fear  of  damaging  his  chances  of  heaven. 

Miss  Madeira  had  never  known  anything  so  simply, 
purely  sweet  as  the  trust  of  this  small  waif.  Children  in 
general  were  rather  afraid  of  her.  No  little  fingers  had 
been  brave  enough  to  pull  open  the  rough  burr  and  dis- 
close the  inner  sweetness.  She  sat  now  amazed  and 
ashamed,  like  a  young  girl  with  her  first  lover,  every  pulse 


260  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

of  her  being  thrilled  through  with  the  strange,  new  expe. 
rience.  In  all  her  life  no  one  had  ever  said,  "  You  are  so 
sweet." 

"My  dear!" 

Miss  Madeira's  voice  trembled,  and  her  thin  lips  quiv 
ered ;  then  she  clasped  the  child  to  her  heart,  both  crying 
together. 

"  You  shall  stay  if  you  want  to,"  she  managed  to  make 
answer  presently.  "  It's  a  little  cubby,  but  it's  big  enough 
to  take  you  in.  And  to  think  of  your  walking  all  day 
without  a  mouthful,  and  sleeping  out  in  the  cold  all  night. 
It's  a  wonder  you  are  not  down  sick.  And  I  think  you 
had  a  deal  of  courage  to  run  away  without  a  cent,  and  not 
knowing  where  to  go,  and  New  York  so  far  off.  But  if 
you  couldn't  find  Kate  you'd  have  to  dance  and  jig  around 
again,  and  there's  Herodias'  daughter  who  danced  off  the 
head  of  John  the  Baptist,  just  as  much  as  if  her  feet  had 
been  on  his  neck.  I  can't  believe  it's  right  after  all,  and 
may  be  that  Mr.  Chicken — what  did  you  say  his  name  was?" 

"  Chippenham." 

"  Ham.  Well,  there ;  I  knew  it  was  something  to  eat. 
May-be  he  will  hire  you  out  again ;  and  I  dare  say  he'll 
spend  every  penny  she  has,  and  treat  her  badly  and,  may- 
be go  off  and  leave  her ;  and  then  what  could  you  do  ? 
For  you  know  David  says  '  Put  not  your  trust  in  princes, 
nor  in  any  child  of  man  j '  not  that  we've  any  princes  in 
this  country,  but  the  Jews  had,  and  David  knew  all  about 
'em.  And  you  shall  just  stay  here  and  write  to  her,  and 
it'll  all  come  right  somehow.  I've  faith  to  believe  that. 
But  you  never  heard  anything  of  the  girl  your  own  mar 
had?" 

"Maggie?  No.  Kate  used  to  think  she  had  lost  me 
on  purpose.  I  don't  know;"  and  there  came  a  dreamy, 
far-off  look  in  the  child's  eyes. 

"What  is  your  other  name?"  asked  Miss  Madeira. 


HOME   AND    LOVE..  261 

"The  name  mamma  used  to  call  me?"  Nora.  But 
Kate  didn't  like  it.  She  said  it  sounded  Irish." 

"  No,  I  meant  your  father's  name." 

"  I  don't  know.  I  have  forgotten.  It  was  a  hard  name, 
and  I  did  remember  it  at  first,  but  it  has  quite  gone  out  of 
my  mind.  And  so  many  other  things.  I  was  so  little 
then,  you  know ; "  and  Queenie  gave  a  womanly  sigh. 

"And  you  haven't  any  pictures  or  trinkets? " 

"No.  That  ugly  Mother  Mell  took  the  chain  I  wore 
around  my  neck.  You  don't  think  I  could  find  Maggie 
again,  do  you  ?  "  and  the  eyes  were  alight  with  eager  wist- 
fulness. 

"I  suppose  not,  child.  May-be  —  well,  it's  all  in  the 
hands  of  Providence,  my  dear,  and  the  two  sparrows  sold 
for  a  farthing,  with  all  the  hairs  of  our  head  numbered ; 
though  it  must  be  a  eight  of  trouble  when  it  keeps  coming 
out  every  day.  Now  you  wouldn't  believe  that  when  I 
was  young  I  had  a  nice,  thick  head  of  hair,  which  Saint 
Paul  says  is  a  woman's  glory,  and  he  being  a  bachelor, 
though  I  don't  know  what  he'd  say  now  with  women 
preaching  in  our  churches,  and  going  in  business,  and  all 
that ;  but  when  they've  families  to  support,  as  so  many  of 
'em  have,  with  husbands  drunk  so  much  of  the  time  that 
wives  could  never  ask  'em  a  question  at  home,  for  they 
wouldn't  be  sober  enough  to  answer  it,  or  only  by  smash- 
ing all  the  dishes ;  and  though  I  believe  in  Saint  Paul  and 
do  think  he  was  the  salt  of  the  earth,  it  is  my  opinion  the 
men  of  his  time  were  different,  or  he  wouldn't  have  ad- 
vised wives  to  ask  'em  questions;"  and  Miss  Maderia 
paused,  quite  out  of  breath,  then  suddenly  caught  herself 
up,  with  the  abrupt  question,  "  What  did  she  do  with  it?" 

"  The  chain  ?  "  asked  Titania,  a  little  bewildered  by  the 
rapid,  inconsequent  monologue. 

"  Oh,  no,  your  hair.     You  said  she  cut  it  off." 

"Yes.  Mrs.  Winsteado  I  don't  know.  There  wera 
such  beautiful  curls, — at  least  she  wouldn't  let  me  curl  it, — 


262  LOST  IH  A   GREAT   CITY. 

and  Dick  always  liked  it  so.  But  it  was  first  cut  in  the 
hospital." 

Well,  may-be  t'was  a  snare,  child,  and  you're  pretty 
enough  without,  though  I  oughtn't  to  say  so ;  and  it  will 
all  grow  again  in  good  time,  and  I  do  s'pose  God  made  it, 
and  it's  just  like  floss  silk  for  all  the  world.  And  I  do  be- 
lieve you've  told  the  truth,  every  word,  though  it  sounds 
like  something  out  of  a  book ;  and  since  you've  no  home 
and  no  folks  till  you  hear  from  Mrs.  What-you-call-her,  that 
let  herself  be  married  for  her  money,  why  you  might  as 
well  stay  here  —  " 

"Oh,  if  you  will  let  me,  good,  kind  Miss  Madeira!"  and 
the  soft  voice  trembled  with  joy. 

"I've  lived  alone  so  long  t'will  seem  queer  like,  — what 
with  being  set  in  my  ways,  and  no  children,  and  going  out 
so  much  of  the  time,  and  being  poor;  for  you  can't  eat 
your  house,  though  it's  good  to  have  a  shelter  for  your 
head,  and  a  bed  of  your  very  own  —  " 

"  And  I  will  wait  upon  you,  and  you  shall  teach  me  to 
sew ;  though  I  can  sew  quite  good  already,  for  Mrs.  Win- 
stead  was  always  making  dresses." 

"  I  could  take  it  home,  you  see,  I  do  sometimes;  but  the 
change  is  good,  —  going  out,  as  Miss  Burgess  says.  And 
I  do  believe  your  dress  is  dry,  for  I  can't  say  that  old  sack 
is  improvin'  to  looks,  though  its  good  and  warm,  and  you 
might  wear  it  out  in  the  rain  for  a  month  and  not  hurt  it." 

Titania  slipped  into  her  own  attire,  while  Miss  Madeira 
watched  her  with  wondering  eyes.  It  seemed  as  if  she  grew 
more  beautiful  every  moment.  The  pearly  skin,  with  its 
youthful  plumpness,  the  rounded  limbs,  the  graceful  move- 
ments, nay,  the  very  step,  now  that  she  was  free  from  Mrs. 
Winstead's  surveillance,  was  instinct  with  seductive  grace. 
The  lonely  heart  yearned  toward  this  vision  of  loveliness 
with  a  more  than  mother's  tenderness,  and  that  almost 
bashful  longing  and  fear,  when  one  wants,  but  hardly 
dares  to  take.  Every  pulse  throbbed  witli  a  strange,  sweet 


LOVE  AND   HOME.  263 

pleasure,  the  rapture  of  possession,  though  it  was  an  un- 
known language  to  her,  in  which  she  knew  not  even  the 
a,  b,  c. 

"  And,  I  declare  to  goodness,  if  it  isn't  most  noon ! 
Where  has  all  the  time  gone?  I  haven't  swept  up  the 
house,  and  I  didn't  even  brush  off  the  porch,  I  was  so  took 
with  a  start  seeing  something  piled  up  in  the  corner,  and 
thinking  it  was  a  dog,  and  being  afeared  of  dogs  mostly,  and 
they  alwers  a-mussing  up  every  place  so ;  and  there,  the 
sun's  a-coming  out,  which  is  a  good  omen,  and  I  don't  think 
I'll  be  sorry,  for  you  look  as  much  like  an  angel  as  them 
that  came  to  Abraham,  —  or  was  it  Lot  ?  or  both  may-be, 
for  I  can't  remember  as  I  used,  only  you  ought  to  be  dressed 
in  white,  but  it's  too  cool  for  winter." 

"  Let  me  help  you,"  said  Titania,  springing  up  quickly, 
"lean  sweep  and  dust  very  nicely;  Hannah  said  so,  at 
Mrs.  Winstead's.  I  should  be  so  glad  to  help." 

She  did  it  with  such  dexterity  and  ease,  the  smiles  com- 
ing and  going  in  her  fair  young  face,  and  her  ready 
thoughts  seeming  to  anticipate  Miss  Madeira's  desires, 
until  suddenly  the  worthy  woman  dropped  into  a  chair,  and 
let  the  long,  limp  hands  fall  into  her  lap. 

"  Well,  you  do  beat  everything  I  ever  see !  r  she  ejacu- 
lated. "  Why,  you  could  earn  a  sight  o'  money  going  out. 
There'd  be  lots  of  people  glad  to  have  you.  Not  that  I 
want  you  to  go,"  as  the  sweet  little  face  overclouded  sud- 
denly, "  but  you  need  never  be  in  want  while  you're  so 
handy,  for  you'd  be  a  treasure  anywhere.  And  now  lem 
me  see ;  we  ought  to  have  something  nice,  but  I've  that 
cold  meat,  and  oh,"  with  an  air  of  immense  relief,  "  a  meat 
pie  will  be  just  the  thing,  and  a  pudding,  but  it  must  be 
rice,  for  I  haven't  any  suet  or  any  raisins ;  living  so  much 
alone,  you  see,  and  not  cooking  much  except  on  Saturdays, 
being  brought  up  to  keep  the  Sabbath  holy." 

They  had  a  royal  feast,  and  were  like  two  children  about 


264  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

it.  Titania  glowed  with  happiness ;  and  with  every  word, 
every  movement,  nay,  even  the  glance  of  her  soft,  dark 
limpid  eyes  riveted  the  chain  that  held  Miss  Madeira  cap- 
tive. And  it  seemed  to  Titania  that  she  had  known  noth- 
ing so  delightful  since  the  feasts  with  Dolly  St.  John. 


A  BBEATH   OF   HAPPINESS.  265 


CHAPTER  XXTT. 

A  BBEATH   OF   HAPPINESS. 

*  I  DON'T  know  what  you'll  do  to-day,"  said  Miss  Madeira 
the  next  morning,  with  a  rather  lugubrious  cast  of  counte- 
nance. "  I  promised  Miss  Rice  to-day  —  she  couldn't  get 
ready  for  me  yesterday ;  and  to-morrow  I  shan't  go  out  for 
king  nor  kaiser.  Do  you  know  what  kaiser  is,  my  dear?" 

**  I  am  not  quite  sure,"  returned  Titania,  doubtfully. 

"  My  father  used  to  say  it  —  strange  I  never  thought  of 
asking  him ;  and  now  there's  the  house  to  sweep,  though  I 
might  just  as  well  have  done  it,"  —  with  a  look  of  re- 
proach, —  "  and  then  if  you  want  to  sew  patchwork,  and 
if  you  won't  get  lonesome,  and  mind,  if  anybody  knocks  to 
the  door  you  open  the  shutter  and  ask  what  they  want,  and 
don't  on  no  account  let  anybody  in,  and  keep  the  doors 
bolted  or  I  shall  not  have  a  moment's  peace  all  day  long." 

"I  shall  do  exactly  as  you  say,"  returned  the  child. 
"  Oh,  dear  Miss  Madeira,  don't  feel  at  all  worried." 

"  Well,  I'll  try  not ;  but  it's  all  so  strange-like,  and  I 
can't  think  you  would  be  deceiving  a  poor  lorn  old  body 
like  me,  who  has  never  done  an  ill-turn  to  a  fellow-creetur, 
knowingly.  And  now  I  must  go,  my  dear." 

"Miss  Madeira,'* —  and  a  shy,  sweet  blush  suffused  the 
child's  face. 

"How  like  a  picter  you  do  look.  There's  that  cold 
meat^pie,  and  —  " 

"Oh,  it  wasn't  that,  dear  Miss  Madeira,"  —  and  she 
caught  her  hand  with  a  soft,  imploring  gesture, —  "  if  you 
would  only  —  let  me  kiss  you ;  I  should  be  happy  all  day 
long." 


266  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

u  How  foolish,  child ! "  and  Miss  Madeira  blushed  with  a 
certain  happy  shame,  that  some  one  should  really  want  to 
kiss  her.  "  And  yet  the  Apostle  talks  about  it,  and  it  was 
done  hi  Bible-times,  and  why  shouldn't  we,  and  you're  sweet 
as  a  rose,  and  I  do  declare  —  there  I " 

For  Titania  had  caught  the  thin  neck  as  the  head  was 
bent  down,  and  pressed  her  warm,  sweet  mouth  to  wrin- 
kled cheeks  and  wasted  lips,  and  roused  Miss  Madeira's 
long  dormant  soul  to  a  sense  of  rapture  new  and  startling. 
As  she  went  out  into  the  cool,  crisp  air,  the  whole  world 
seemed  glorified,  the  autumn  sun  was  brighter  than  any 
June  day  that  had  ever  shone  upon  her. 

Mrs.  Rice  was  waiting  for  her  with  two  old,  ripped-up 
gowns  that  were  to  be  made  over  into  one. 

"  It  won't  look  bad,  I  think,"  she  said.  tt  Merino  is  so 
much  like  cashmere,  and  this  reps  was  a  splendid  piece  of 
goods.  I've  had  that  dress  eight  years  with  only  one 
making  over,  but  the  body  and  sleeves  are  gone  now.  And 
they  put  different  colors  together  so  much ;  and  what  odds 
does  different  material  make,  I  should  like  to  know  ?  " 

There  certainly  was  no  gainsaying  this.  Economy  and 
*  conjuring '  was  Miss  Madeira's  forte  and  delight,  but  to- 
day she  found  it  tiresome,  and  her  wits  went  wool-gather- 
ing. Bits  of  Titania's  story  floated  through  her  brain,  the 
unusual  kiss  still  thrilled  her,  and  with  it  all  a  strange 
anxiety  —  what  if  it  should  be  a  dream,  or  an  imposture  ? 
What  if  she  should  go  home  and  find  her  house  rifled  of 
its  few  valuables,  its  choice  heirlooms  of  silver,  her  best 
silk,  the  woollen  blankets  her  mother  had  spun  in  girlhood. 
And  when  it  came  night  she  would  not  wait  for  supper, 
but  made  some  confused  excuse. 

"Miss  Madeira  begins  to  fail  a  little,"  said  Mrs.  Rice. 
"  She  hasn't  been  here  to  sew  since  last  June,  and  I  notice 
a  great  change  in  her.  Poor  old  thing !  How  sad  it  is  to 
be  all  alone.  Her  sister  never  pays  her  a  bit  of  attention, 
and  she  couldn't  do  enough  for  her,  giving  up  everything 


A  BREATH   OF   HAPPINESS.  267 

when  she  was  married.  It's  a  wonder  she  kept  enough  to 
buy  that  little  house." 

It  had  been  a  long,  lonesome,  but  not  unhappy  day  to 
Titania.  She  swept,  dusted,  put  in  order,  sewed,  and  had 
her  dinner.  Then  she  looked  around  for  something  to 
read.  There  was  a  Bible,  a  few  heavy  religious  books,  and 
a  volume  of  travels.  This  she  devoured  with  avidity, 
scarcely  stirring  until  towards  night,  when  she  suddenly 
found  herself  cramped  and  stiff.  If  she  could  only  go  out 
and  take  a  walk,  but  she  would  be  strictly  true  to  her  trust. 
She  stirred  the  fire  and  put  on  the  kettle,  and  then  in  a 
mood  compounded  of  restless  happiness,  expectation,  and 
the  desire  to  end  the  strange  stillness,  she  began  to  hum  a 
gay  tune  and  took  a  few  turns  around  the  room.  She  had 
not  danced  in  so  long,  and  now  it  fairly  inspired  her.  Miss 
Madeira  might  have  been  shocked,  but  the  world  outside 
of  Miss  Madeira's  and  Mrs.  Winstead's  would  have  been 
entranced.  She  could  have  laughed  from  pure  gladness, 
she  was  so  happy. 

And  when  Miss  Madeira  came  in  to  find  the  lamp 
lighted,  the  kettle  boiling,  the  room  tidy,  and  cheerful 
with  human  presence,  that  intangible  something  in  the 
atmosphere,  and  caught  sight  of  the  bright  face  with  its 
starry,  shining  eyes,  and  cheeks  the  shade  of  a  ripe  peach, 
she  dropped  in  a  chair  and  was  speechless  with  happiness, 
fairly  bewildered,  in  fact. 

"  I've  been  thinking,"  she  said  the  next  afternoon,  when 
another  delightful  day  had  passed,  "  that  something  must 
be  said,  for  Bartlett  folks  '11  want  to  know  all  about  you, 
and  it's  so  strange  me  a-having  any  one,  with  no  chick  or 
child,  and  nothing  ever  happening  since  the  time  'Mirny 
made  her  visit,  and  I  was  that  beat  out  with  the  baby 
a-crying  that  I  didn't  know  whether  I  stood  on  my  head 
or  my  feet ;  and  theatres,  you  know,  being  wondered  at  in 
a  little  town  like  this,  and  some  people  considering  dancing 
sinful,  so  may-be  Miss  Post  was  right,  and  you  better  say 


268  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

nothing  about  it ;  but  people  will  ask,  and  what  can  we 
tell  'em  ?" 

With  that  Miss  Madeira  looked  up  helplessly  to  the 
sweet,  arch  face,  smiling  over  her  perplexity. 

Titania,  child  as  she  was,  was  much  better  versed  in  the 
world's  ways,  and  perhaps  more  widely  experienced  in  the 
sad,  sharp  wisdom  of  life. 

"  There  need  not  be  much  said,  dear  Miss  Madeira,  and 
we  can  leave  out  all  that  life.  You  can  just  explain  that 
I  left  the  woman  I  was  living  with,  and  was  going  back  to 
some  friends  in  New  York,  —  for  I  could  find  Owen  Thomas 
now  that  I  am  well,  and  maybe  Dolly  St.  John,  and  I  know 
she  would  be  good  to  me,  —  but  that  it  stormed,  and  I 
asked  shelter  here,  and  you  thought  you'd  keep  me  until 
I  wrote  to  my  friends.  I  will  write  to  Kate,  and  perhaps 
some  day  I  may  hear  from  her ;  but  oh,  I  don't  ever  want 
to  go  away  from  you ; "  and  she  clasped  the  thin  fingers 
in  her  own  warm  palm. 

"  Well,  I  suppose  we  can  make  that  sound  reasonable. 
Folks  '11  think  it  strange  my  taking  in  any  one ;  but  charity 
is  charity,  and  I'm  a  poor  lone  woman,  and  why  shouldn't 
I  have  a  bit  of  company?" 

So  Miss  Madeira  took  her  to  church  the  next  day,  and 
on  Monday  was  fortified  with  her  story.  Of  course  she 
was  besieged  with  questions.  Wasn't  the  child  an  im- 
postor ?  Ought  she  not  send  her  back  to  the  woman  who 
took  her,  or  the  institution  from  whence  she  came  ?  How 
could  she  think  of  burdening  herself  with  such  a  charge? 
She  knew  nothing  about  children,  and  the  little  girl  was 
too  pretty  to  turn  out  well.  She  would  get  herself  into 
na  end  of  trouble. 

Miss  Madeira  listened,  sometimes  not  very  patiently. 
She  had  taken  the  child  to  her  heart,  to  her  love,  and 
something  stronger  than  neighborly  advice  would  be  neces- 
sary to  dislodge  her.  But  the  days  went  and  came,  and 
the  child  proved  honest  and  trusty,  and  did  not  run  away 


A   BREATH   OF   HAPPINESS.  269 

with  the  gold  and  ornaments  of  the  whole  town  of  Bart- 
lett,  as  had  been  predicted. 

I  doubt  if  there  was  a  happier  home  in  the  whole  town 
that  winter.  Simple,  quaint,  near  of  kin  to  poverty,  full 
of  small  straits  and  economies,  and  yet  so  rich  in  enjoy- 
ment. They  were  like  two  children ;  in  fact,  Miss  Madeira 
in  worldly  ignorance  was  only  a  child  of  larger  growth, 
and  Titania  soon  became  the  leading  spirit. 

She  borrowed  the  book  whose  singing  tea-kettle  had 
made  such  an  impression  on  her  mind,  and  Titania  read  it 
aloud.  It  proved  to  be  the  "  Cricket  on  the  Hearth,"  and 
together  they  laughed  and  cried  over  it,  with  its  wise, 
cheery,  sweet,  unapproachable  little  Dot.  Miss  Madeira 
was  not  quite  clear  in  her  mind  whether  story-reading  was 
allowable,  but  they  began  Little  Nell,  and  their  scruples 
went  to  the  winds. 

Titania  wrote  to  Mrs.  Chippenham,  at  Paris,  and  at  New 
York ;  but  she  might  as  well  have  dropped  both  letters  into 
a  whirlpool.  Indeed,  as  the  months  went  on,  she  was  so 
simply  happy  that  she  felt  afraid  of  the  time  when  Kate 
should  claim  her.  In  the  spring  she  began  to  go  to  school, 
and  though  she  had  an  innate  shrinking  from  children,  her 
desire  for  knowledge  gave  her  a  certain  bravery.  Her  ed- 
ucation, so  far,  had  been  sadly  neglected,  though  in  some 
respects  she  was  in  advance,  certainly  in  that  strange  and 
bitter  experience.  Childhood,  indeed,  had  been  rudely 
wrenched  out  of  its  proper  season,  and  yet  there  was  a 
bewildering  freshness  and  fascination  in  her  character,  now 
that  it  was  unfolding.  Daily  she  surprised  Miss  Madeira, 
who  began  to  hold  her  in  a  curious  awe. 

They  had  discussed  her  name  in  the  early  time  of  her 
coming. 

"  It's  such  an  odd  name,  I  never  heard  it  before,"  ex- 
claimed the  lady.  "  It  isn't  a  Bible  name,  I'm  sure,  though 
there's  many  a  queer  name  in  the  Bible.  Bathsheba,  now, 
that's  my  name,  but  goodness  me !  no  one  would  ever 


270  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

think  of  calling  it.  Jemima's  ever  so  much  nicer,  for  you 
can  say  'Mirny  for  short ;  but  I've  always  been  called  Miss 
Madeira,  from  the  time  I  was  born,  I  do  believe." 

"  Titania  was  a  fairy  queen,"  said  the  child.  "  Dick  told 
me  about  her." 

"  But  there  isn't  any  such  thing  as  fairies,  you  know,  and 
father  never  would  allow  us  to  read  anything  of  the  kind ; 
but  I  did  know  about  Cinderella,  and  the  girl  who  dropped 
pearls  and  diamonds  every  time  she  spoke." 

"And  Dick  called  me  Queenie.  Oh,  Miss  Madeira,"  she 
cried  eagerly,  "  if  you  would  only  call  me  that !  Dick 
loved  me  so,  you  see.  No  one  else  ever  really  loved  me, 
though  Kate  was  so  kind  and  indulgent.  And  now  you 
love  me  —  you  do  really  love  me  ?  "  and  the  dark  eyes 
shone  with  an  intense  light. 

u  Love  you ! "  One  could  hardly  imagine  Miss  Madeira's 
thin  voice  so  full  and  tender.  "  I  don't  know  how  it  feels 
to  have  children  of  your  very  own ;  but  I  can't  bear  to 
think  of  any  one  else  wanting  you  or  taking  you  away." 

"  Maybe  they  never  will.  Then  I'll  go  right  on  living 
with  you,  and  caring  for  you,  and  if  you  are  ever  sick  nurs- 
ing you.  I  think  I  could  do  it.  Dick  was  so  tender  of 
me,  and  I'd  be  just  that  way,  having  nice  things  for  you  to 
eat,  and  reading  to  you,  and  bathing  your  head  with  per- 
fumes, only  I  couldn't  hold  you,"  and  then  both  children 
laughed,  the  elder  with  tears  in  her  eyes. 

And  thus  the  old  name  fell  into  disuse,  and  she  became 
Miss  Madeira's  little  Queen,  as  she  had  been  Dick  Brid- 
ger's.  Her  pretty  ways  of  stateliness  and  dignity  fitted 
her  so  well,  seemed  indeed  so  much  a  part  of  her,  that 
never  a  name  suited  better. 

The  spring  came  to  Bartlett,  and  Queenie  coaxed  Misa 
Madeira  out  to  walk  in  the  woods  by  coming  for  her  when 
her  day's  work  was  done.  The  small  house  took  on  a  new 
air  of  beauty  and  freshness.  Flowers  stood  in  saucers  and 


A   BREATH   OP   HAPPINESS.  271 

rases,  and  the  two  made  a  pretty  garden-bed  in  the  front 
yard,  that  was  more  comfort  than  a  mine  of  gold. 

Then  passed  the  rich,  blooming  summer,  and  autumn 
with  its  luscious  fruits ;  Queenie  grew  taller,  but  was  still 
slender  and  lissome  as  a  sylph.  A  shy  little  thing  with 
great,  wistful,  entreating  dark  eyes,  and  golden  hair  that 
began  to  curl  again ;  and  was  a  daily  wonder  to  Miss  Ma- 
deira, whose  conscientious  scruples  concerning  the  vaniljp 
of  it  vanished. 

**  For  surely  if  God  ever  did  anything  He  made  your 
hair  curl,  and  it's  a  mystery  to  me  with  the  ways  of  Provi- 
dence past  finding  out,  and  I'm  not  clear  as  to  whether  it 
comes  under  the  head  of  pomps  and  vanities,  when  other 
people  buy  it  and  pay  out  their  money  every  little  while 
for  having  it  curled,  and  braids  and  switches,  and  what 
not,  all  out  of  money  that  might  be  sent  to  the  heathen, 
which  you'll  never  have  to  do,  my  dear,  unless  it  comes 
out  dreadfully,  with  caps  gone  out  of  fashion,"  and  Miss 
Madeira  peered  over  her  glasses  at  the  soft,  shining  mass 
that  it  would  have  broken  her  heart  to  cut. 

No  word  from  Mrs.  Chippenham.  Queenie  began  to 
settle  to  her  present  life  as  if  she  had  been  born  in  it. 
The  poverty  and  little  straits  she  scarcely  minded.  And 
yet  she  had  some  ambitions,  and  one  or  two  soul-stirring 
passions.  Music  moved  her  keenly,  and  now  she  found 
that  she  had  a  clear,  sweet  voice  for  singing.  Miss  Ma- 
deira used  to  sit  entranced. 

Indeed,  the  old-fashioned,  simple-hearted  spinster  scarcely 
knew  herself  any  more,  and  was  as  much  puzzled  as  the 
woman  lost  on  the  king's  highway.  If  she  had  been  asked 
to  go  to  parties  and  balls,  and  to  be  tricked  out  in  silks, 
satins,  and  feathers,  she  could  have  seen  the  cloven-foot  of 
the  dreaded  pomps  and  vanities.  But  Queenie's  delights 
were  so  innocent  and  wholesome,  so  full  of  the  natural 
graces  of  childhood,  albeit  different  from  the  childhood  of 
Miss  Madeira's  early  days. 


272  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

At  long  intervals  Miss  Madeira  heard  from  her  sister. 
She  had  not  yet  summoned  sufficient  courage  to  announce 
the  new  inmate  in  her  family,  from  a  misgiving  that  it 
would  not  meet  with  'Mirny's  approval,  as  'Mirny  had  al- 
ready bespoken  Miss  Madeira's  small  portion  for  her  two 
little  girls. 

"  Blood's  thicker  than  water,  of  course,"  ruminated  Miss 
Madeira,  "  and  it's  not  likely  I'd  leave  my  money  to  stran- 
gers with  my  own  kin  standing  by,  and  Queenie's  friends 
may  be  claiming  her  long  before.  But  it's  not  likely  that 
'Mirny  would  understand  that  the  child  doesn't  cost  any- 
thing to  speak  of,  and  is  so  much  company,  and  I'm  sure  I 
don't  know  now  how  I  ever  should  get  on  without  her." 

Queenie  came  home  from  school  one  day  to  find  Miss 
Madeira  in  the  utmost  consternation,  with  a  letter  lying 
atop  of  her  work-basket,  and  her  glasses  pushed  up  on  her 
head. 

"  Oh,  dear  Miss  Madeira ! n  she  cried,  u  what  is  the  mat- 
ter? Bad  news  from  your  sister?" 

"  Matter  ?  Why,  its  twins,  and  both  boys :  and  chough 
the  Bible  speaks  of  having  a  quiver  full,  and  oh,  Queenie, 
do  you  know  how  large  a  quiver  is  ?  "  with  a  look  of  such 
helpless  perplexity  that  Queenie  could  not  forbear  smiling ; 
"and  there's  the  shoes  and  stockings,  and  boys  always 
being  so  hard  on  'em,  and  the  holes  in  the  knees  of  their 
trousers,  and  I  thank  the  Lord  that  I  don't  have  'em  to 
patch,  for  I  alwers  did  despise  having  anything  to  do  with 
men's  clothes,  with  tobacco  in  the  pockets,  and  buttons 
alwers  off,  to  say  nothing  of  the  noise  when  they're  babies, 
and  the  rampaging  round,  and  oh,  dear,  poor  'Mirny ;  and 
I'm  thankful  I'm  not  married,  for  that  makes  six  I" 

M  But  babies  are  so  cunning."  It  was  the  only  comfort- 
ing thing  Queenie  could  find  to  say. 

"  It's  all  right  I  s'pose.  I  never  could  understand  much 
about  the  decrees,  though  I'm  sure  I  studied  the  catechism, 
and  went  without  supper  on  Saturday  nights  if  I  missed 


A   BREATH   OP  HAPPINESS.  273 

a  word,  and  I  hope  'Mirny 's  resigned,  and  all  that,  though 
it  didn't  seem  to  me  that  she  was  real  anxious  to  have  any 
more,  along  with  not  liking  to  take  care  of  children  very 
well.  But  I  hope  they'll  turn  out  a  credit,  and  care  for 
'Mirny  in  her  old  days,  for  somehow  it  don't  seem  to  me 
that  the  captain's  forehanded,  and  'Mirny's  very  free  about 
spending." 

u  We  might  make  them  some  pretty  little  garments, 
dear  Miss  Madeira,  and  wouldn't  it  be  nice  sometime  to 
have  the  little  girls  come  and  make  a  visit  —  in  the  sum- 
mer when  every  thing  is  so  beautiful." 

"  You  are  always  thinking  about  other  people,  Queenie, 
and  making  them  happy.  There  isn't  a  selfish  hair  in  your 
head." 

"And  you  have  always  been  so  good  to  me,  why 
shouldn't  I?"  cried  Queenie,  who  was  unconsciously  be- 
ginning  to  imitate  Miss  Madeira's  inconsequent  mode  of 
speech.  And  then  she  kissed  the  wrinkled  face  as  if  it 
bad  been  the  sweetest  and  fairest  under  the  son. 
18 


274  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITT. 


CHAPTER  XXTTT. 

TWINS     AND     TBOUBLB. 

Miss  MADEIRA  little  imagined  the  important  part  the 
twins  were  destined  to  play,  not  only  in  her  own  life,  but 
in  the  future  of  the  child  Queenie.  The  invitation  was 
sent  for  the  two  little  girls,  but  their  mother  declined  it  in 
a  fretful  epistle.  How  could  sister  Madeira  suppose  she 
couid  send  them  all  that  distance  alone,  her  little  treasures 
that  she  never  trusted  out  of  her  sight !  And  how  could 
she  get  them  ready  when  they  had  nothing  to  wear,  and 
she  too  miserable  to  sew,  scarcely  able  to  sit  up  all  day. 
Everybody  said  she  was  wearing  herself  out  for  her  chil- 
dren's sake,  and  that  she  was  foolish  to  do  it,  but  sister 
Maderia  could  not  enter  into  a  mother's  feelings  for  her 
precious  cherubs.  The  whole  family  were  going  out  to 
Long  Island,  to  a  cousin  of  the  captain's,  where  the  chil- 
dren could  have  new  milk  and  fresh  berries,  and  the  sea 
air  was  recommended  to  her  also.  Sister  Madeira  knew 
nothing  of  the  struggles  and  trials  of  married  life,  and 
having  your  husband  away  so  ranch,  and  the  care  of  chil 
dren,  and  living  on  a  limited  income.  Mrs.  Mullins  always 
talked  of  her  limited  income  as  if  some  unseen  enemy  was 
wronging  her  out  of  part  of  it. 

"  Poor  thing!"  said  Miss  Madeira,  "  it  must  be  very  hard 
to  have  six  children  of  one's  own,  and  they  feeling  free 
to  cry  at  all  times  of  night,  and  eat  bread  and  sugar  over 
the  best  furniture.  I  believe,  my  dear,  I'd  rather  be  an 
old-fashioned  dress-maker,  working  for  seventy-five  cents 


TWINS   AND  TROUBLE.  275 

a  day  and  partly  found,  with  now  and  then  a  present  to 
eke  it  out.  But  we  must  make  up  a  few  clothes  for 
them." 

Out  of  her  small  savings  she  sent  her  nieces  and  nephews 
five  dollars  apiece  all  around,  and  she  and  Queenie  sewed 
diligently.  Where  did  the  child  get  her  wisdom,  her 
exquisite  taste,  her  large-hearted  tenderness?  Not  aa 
the  world  had  used  her  was  she  paying  back,  but  in  that 
higher,  diviner  manner,  that  seemed  to  blossom  out  of  her 
sweet  and  generous  soul.  Now  and  then  a  great  mis- 
giving seized  Miss  Madeira.  Surely  Queenie  was  not  of 
kin  with  common,  every-day  folk!  Her  radiant  flower- 
like  face,  her  exquisite  figure,  her  tiny,  slender  hands,  her 
bird-like  voice,  her  ways  of  grace  and  fascination  were  out 
of  the  common  order.  To  whom  did  she  belong?  Surely 
she  ought  to  be  rich,  and  living  in  luxury,  studying  all  the 
wonderful  things  that  so  moved  and  excited  her,  and  hav- 
ing great  ladies  for  her  friends.  I  am  afraid  foolish  old 
Miss  Madeira  sometimes  wished  she  were  a  fairy-godmother 
for  Queenie's  sake. 

The  box  went  safely,  and  was  tardily  acknowledged. 
Then  nothing  more  was  heard  for  months,  indeed  until 
Christmas. 

Miss  Madeira  and  her  little  protege  were  invited  to  a 
Christmas  feast  at  the  house  of  Mrs.  Burgess,  whose  family 
had  taken  a  great  fancy  for  the  little  waif.  It  had  been  a 
long,  bright  day,  with  happy  children  for  companions. 
Queenie  had  danced  and  sung  with  the  merriest  of  them, 
indeed,  it  seemed  as  if  she  had  never  been  quite  so  happy 
in  all  her  life. 

They  slept  late  the  next  morning,  and  were  still  at 
the  breakfast-table  when  the  postman  knocked.  Queenie 
sprang  to  the  door. 

Instead  of  Mrs.  Mullins'  fine,  scratchy  hand,  this  was 
directed  in  large,  irregular  letters,  and  had  a  border  of 
black. 


276  LOST  IN  A  GREAT   CITY. 

"  Oh,  Miss  Madeira ! "  she  cried  in  girlish  gayety,  "  per 
haps  some  one  has  left  you  a  fortune  !  " 

Miss  Madeira  put  on  her  glasses  and  studied  it,  turned 
it  up  and  down,  and  around,  and  even  pinched  it,  mak- 
ing various  comments,  and  then  opened  it  with  a  curious 
flutter  of  nerves. 

u  Oh,  my  goodness ! "  she  shrieked.  "  Lord  have  mercy 
on  us  all !  And  it's  my  poor  sister  ! " 

Queenie  stood  pale  and  trembling. 

"  My  poor,  poor  'Mirny,  and  never  saying  a  word  all 
this  while,  and  me  a  thinking  she  was  well  from  her  sea- 
side trip.  It  happened  so  lucky  that  her  husband  was 
home.  And  he  doesn't  say  what  it  was,  only  that  she's 
been  ailing  ever  since  the  twins  were  born,  and  it  was  a 
piece  of  work  that  she  ever  had  'em,  and  I'm  to  come 
right  away.  But  what  ever  shall  I  do,  and  I  haven't  been 
to  New  York  in  years  and  years  1" 

She  looked  up  so  helplessly,  that  Queenie  came  around 
and  kissed  her,  and  strove  to  comfort.  The  tears  ran  down 
her  thin  cheeks,  and  dropped  off  the  end  of  her  nose,  into 
her  plate,  unheeded. 

"You're  a  great  comfort,  dear,"  said  Miss  Madeira. 
"  And  if  you'll  read  that  letter  over  again,  may  be  I've 
skipped  something,  with  my  head  being  all  in  a  whirl,  and 
oh,  poor  'Mirny ! " 

Queenie  read  it  aloud,  and  they  found  that  Captain  Mul- 
lins  had  been  kind  enough  to  specify  the  train,  and  prom- 
ised to  meet  her.  She  would  be  in  at  eight  in  the 
evening. 

"And  now  you  must  just  get  yourself  ready,"  began  the 
child,  with  a  woman's  composure.  "  There  is  almost  two 
hours  before  train-time,  but  it  is  none  too  much,  and  I  will 
tidy  up  the  house  afterward.  Oh,  dear  Miss  Madeira ! " 
and  they  cried  together,  as  they  had  more  than  once  before. 

If  Miss  Madeira  had  been  alone  I  doubt  if  her  jour 
ney  would  have  been  taken  that  day.  She  seemed  so 


TWINS   AND   TROUBLE.  277 

lost,  helpless,  and  sorrow  stricken.  It  was  Queenie  who 
looked  up  her  dress,  and  basted  a  bit  of  black  crape  around 
the  neck ;  who  packed  her  satchel,  not  forgetting  a  dainty 
little  lunch  ;  who  looked  up  her  handkerchief  and  gloves, 
and  walked  down  to  the  station  with  her. 

"  Oh,  my  dear,  I  forgot,"  she  exclaimed,  suddenly.  "  You 
can't  stay  alone,  a  slip  of  a  girl  like  you ;  'twouldn't  be 
prudent  or  safe,  and  houses  being  entered  now  and  then, 
and  tramps  about,  —  though,  thank  the  Lord,  they've  never 
been  in,  —  not  that  I've  much  to  lose,  but  I  shan't  feel  safe 
a  minute,  so  you  must  go  and  stay  with  a  neighbor." 

"Mrs.  Burgess  will  take  me  in,  I  think." 

"  Yes,  Mrs.  Burgess  is  the  sort  of  woman  to  count  on, 
through  thick  and  thin,  and  you'll  tell  her  how  suddent  like  it 
was  with  me,  not  knowing  a  word  till  it  fell  like  a  thunder- 
clap, or  I'd  come  myself.  And,  my  dear,  you'll  put  the  sil- 
ver in  the  false  back  in  the  cupboard,  and  lock  up  everything, 
and  be  careful  of  fire ;  for  I've  known  people  to  go  away  and 
have  their  houses  burnt  down  over  their  heads,  and  they 
never  knowing  a  word  about  it  till  they  came  back  and 
found  a  heap  of  ashes,  and  I  know  it's  all  along  of  having 
them  twins  if  anything  does  happen  to  me,  —  but  she 
couldn't  help  it,  poor  dear,  in  her  grave,  and  the  Lord  sent 
'em." 

They  kissed  good-by  again  and  again,  and  with  a  shrill 
shriek  the  train  started  off.  Queenie  retraced  her  steps, 
put  the  little  cot  in  order,  while  every  pulse  was  stirred 
with  a  strange,  solemn  feeling.  She  seemed  to  know  this 
Mullens  family  as  if  she  had  met  them  in  some  other  life, 
and  with  her  rarely  sympathetic  nature  their  sorrow  was 
hers.  Like  a  dim  dream  came  back  the  remembrance  of 
her  own  mamma's  death,  though  she  could  recall  neither 
voice  nor  face ;  only  a  blank  dreariness. 

It  was  afternoon  when  she  put  on  her  hat  and  cloak  and 
started  for  the  kind  neighbor,  whose  home,  with  its  pic- 
tures, rich  carpets,  and  piano  was  a  perfect  paradise  to  her 


278  LOST  IN    A  GREAT   CITY. 

Mrs.  Burgess  welcomed  her  warmly,  and  listened  to  the 
sorrowful  tidings. 

"  Poor  thing !  It's  sad  enough  to  leave  a  flock  of  little 
ones,  and  I  pity  their  poor  father.  But  in  my  opinion,  for 
pure,  native  worth,  Mrs.  Mullins  couldn't  compare  with 
Miss  Madeira,  whose  heart  is  solid  gold,  if  she  has  a  queer, 
ungainly  body.  And  I  do  hope  she  will  not  think  of  bur- 
dening herself  with  that  household,  and  the  twins  not  a 
year  old  !  If  she  thought  it  her  duty,  there  would  be  no 
talking  her  out  of  it." 

There  came  one  letter  to  Queenie.  Miss  Madeira  had 
reached  her  journey's  end  in  safety,  and  the  day  after,  her 
sister  had  been  buried.  Captain  Mullins  was  to  go  away 
in  a  fortnight,  having  lost  one  trip  already,  and  being  con- 
nected with  a  South  American  trading-vessel.  They  were 
planning,  but  she  did  not  know  what  would  be  done ;  and 
she  missed  her  dear  Queenie  more  than  words  could  tell. 
She  was  making  some  clothes  for  the  children,  for  the  poor 
dears  were  almost  naked ;  but  she  would  try  to  get  home 
soon,  for  she  was  well-nigh  crazy  with  the  noise  and  con- 
fusion. 

Nearly  a  month  elapsed  before  that  event,  however, 
and  when  she  did  come,  poor  Miss  Madeira  looked  older 
and  thinner,  and  care-worn  to  the  last  degree. 

"  Oh,  my  dear,  darling  Queenie ! "  she  cried  ;  "  there  is 
nothing  in  this  world  like  your  own  vine  and  fig-tree,  be  it 
ever  so  humble,  and  I  don't  much  wonder  Jonah  com- 
plained when  the  gourd  withered,  seeing  'twas  all  he  had 
for  shelter,  though  he  might  have  trusted  the  Lord.  And 
them  children  do  make  a  Bedlam  of  the  place,  and  I  really 
thought  I  should  go  crazy.  You  see,  poor  sister  had  no 
sort  of  government  over  them,  and  she  thought  we  was 
brought  up  too  strict ;  so  she  let  'em  do  just  as  they  liked, 
and  I  don't  wonder  it  killed  her!" 

"And  I'm  so  glad  to  have  you  home,  so  glad  ! "  said  the 
softest  and  sweetest  of  voices,  and  the  rosy  lips,  with  their 


TWINS  AND  TROUBLE.  279 

fragrant  breath,  were  bewildering  in  their  deliciousness. 
"  And  I've  made  the  creamiest  biscuits,  and  the  loveliest 
ginger-snaps,  you  ever  saw.  I've  been  studying  cooking  at 
Mrs.  Burgess',  and  she  would  make  me  bring  home  a 
splendid  cold  chicken  and  a  luscious  mince-pie,  and  I  shall 
feast  you  as  if  you  were  a  princess,  now  that  I  have  you 
all  to  myself  again." 

Miss  Madeira  stared.  What  was  the  nameless,  intan- 
gible charm  ?  The  beauty  that  was  considered  a  misfor- 
tune ?  Ah,  no,  at  least  not  altogether.  Something  higher 
and  finer,  more  subtile,  —  the  loving,  generous,  unselfish 
soul  that  shone  through  all,  a  steady  light  burning  back 
of  limpid  eyes,  sparkling  cheeks,  cherry-ripe  lips,  and  dim- 
pled chin.  Ah,  blood  wasn't  thicker  than  water,  after  all. 
She  loved  this  stranger  better  than  her  sister's  children, 
and  though  she  was  horrified  at  herself,  she  knew  it  to  be 
a  fact. 

There  never  was  such  a  delightful  feast  of  a  supper. 
Then  Miss  Madeira  must  take  the  large  rocker  and  toast 
her  feet  on  the  stove-hearth,  while  her  little  handmaiden 
deftly  washed  up  the  dishes. 

"  They  have  a  housekeeper,"  she  went  on,  the  Mullins 
family  still  being  her  theme.  "  I  can't  say  that  I  like  her, 
though  she  came  highly  recommended,  and  I'd  be  the  last 
one  to  breathe  a  breath  of  blame  or  a  tinder-spark  of 
scandal  against  a  fellow-creetur,  but  I  couldn't  help  think- 
ing that  she  drank  more  than  was  good  for  her,  though 
the  doctor  ordered  it  for  some  sort  of  \ve;ikness,  and  she 
strong  and  ruddy  as  a  milkmaid,  though  why  books  always 
say  so  I  don't  know.  I  hope  she'll  be  good  to  the  children ; 
but  such  a  set  of  wild  Arabs,  and  such  names !  You  see 
their  mother  gave  them  all  long,  romantic  ones,  and  their 
par  called  them  anything.  There's  Tip,  and  Pug,  and 
Moppet,  and  Cissy,  and  Cassy  and  Polly,  the  twins.  Castor 
and  Pollux  it  means  ;  but  I  never  did  hear  such  heathenish 
names,  and  they  sound  just  like  girls'  names  for  all  the 


280  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

world.  And  such  living  as  it  is  —  way  up  on  the  fourth 
floor,  with  your  clothes  drying  out  of  the  window,  and  not 
a  bit  of  grass  to  bleach  on ;  but  handy  enough  when  you 
get  there,  and  no  need  to  come  down-stairs  often.  But  I 
felt  as  if  I  was  up  in  a  balloon,  and  such  crowds  and 
crowds  of  people,  it  alwers  tired  me  to  look  at  'em.  And 
money  being  spent  just  as  if  there  was  no  end  to  it,  but 
I'm  afraid  poor  sister  wasn't  much  of  a  hand  at  economy, 
and  seven  silk  gowns,  but  so  greased  and  soiled  that  they 
were  a  sight  to  behold.  The  cleaning  and  scouring,  and 
altering  and  fixing,  I've  done,  I  declare  some  nights  I 
couldn't  sleep,  but  I  do  hope  they'll  get  along." 

It  was  a  never-failing  subject  of  conversation.  Miss 
Madeira  had  been  through  with  an  entirely  new  experience, 
and  the  ideal  she  had  cherished  of  'Mirny  was  doomed  to 
a  slow,  cruel  process  of  dis-illusion.  The  pomps  and  vani- 
ties had  proved  veritable  quicksands  in  the  case  of  the 
weaker  character.  Mrs.  Mullins  unfortunately  developed 
into  a  feeble,  fretful,  selfish,  vain,  and  slatternly  voman,  a 
woman  whom  the  captain  could  hardly  have  failed  to 
despise  if  he  had  been  compelled  to  remain  with  her  con- 
stantly. Miss  Madeira  saw  many  evidences  of  her  short- 
comings, but  she  was  her  sister,  so  she  only  said  "  Poor 
'Mimy,"  and  sighed  over  her.  And  she  had  hardly  been 
won  toward  the  children.  Tip  and  Pug  called  her  an  old 
maid,  and  asked  where  she  had  lost  her  waterfall,  and 
what  made  her  nose  so  sharp  and  shiny.  Moppet  criti- 
cised her  attire,  and  Cissy  insisted  that  she  was  a  cross,  old 
thing ;  so  no  wonder  Miss  Madeira  was  glad  to  get  back 
to  her  own  bright,  loving  Queenie. 

But  alas !  There  were  three  months  of  quiet  enjoyment, 
when,  one  afternoon,  Captain  Mullins  presented  himself 
with  a  heart-rending  story.  He  had  come  home  to  find 
that  his  housekeeper  had  gone  off,  taking  with  her  what- 
ever small  articles  of  value  she  could  lay  hands  on  ;  that 
she  had  run  him  in  debt  to  grocer  and  butcher  and  baker, 


TWINS   AND   TROUBLE.  281 

and  that  the  household  was  completely  demoralized. 
Wouldn't  Miss  Madeira  come  and  take  charge  ?  Tip  had 
gone  into  an  office,  the  others  must  be  sent  to  school,  and 
the  twins  — 

Miss  Madeira  was  filled  with  consternation.  She  said, 
faintly  at  first,  that  they  might  come  here,  but  her  brother- 
in-law  pointed  out  the  inadequacy  of  the  house  to  contain 
such  a  roistering  lot,  the  inconvenience  it  would  be  to  him, 
and  the  many  advantages  for  business  in  the  city.  "  There 
will  be  four  boys  to  rear  and  to  establish  in  business,  and 
what  could  we  do  in  a  little  country  place  like  this  ?  "  said 
the  captain,  glancing  around  the  bird's  nest,  and  wanning 
to  the  prim  but  motherly  hen  with  her  one  chick.  "  I  can't 
make  it  a  great  object,  Miss  Madeira,  for  what  with  the 
long  doctor's  bills  and  nurse's  and  funeral,  and  now  this 
last  misfortune,  I  am  still  behindhand.  But  I  will  take 
care  that  you  don't  lose  anything.  I've  been  thinking  it 
over  when  I  made  up  my  mind  to  ask  you,  and  if  you 
would  be  willing  to  rent  your  house  for  a  few  years,  you'd 
have  your  living,  and  wages  beside,  and  I'd  do  the  very 
best  I  could  for  you.  Otherwise  I  am  afraid  I  must  break 
up  my  home  and  put  my  children  around  in  schools  or  in- 
stitutions where  they  care  for  poor,  motherless  things.  But 
I  like  so  to  see  them  altogether  when  I  come  in  port." 

Miss  Madeira  wiped  her  eyes,  and  her  brother-in-law 
took  courage  to  urge  his  proposal.  Indeed,  as  he  warmed 
with  his  subject,  he  began  to  think,  man-fashion,  that  it 
would  really  be  better  for  her  than  going  on  year  after 
year  alone. 

"I'm  clear  beat  and  dumbfoundered,"  she  said  to 
Queenie,  as  they  were  once  more  by  themselves,  after 
having  lighted  the  captain  to  the  spare  chamber.  "  My 
dear,  I  feel  as  if  some  one  had  hit  me  a  hard  slap  on  the 
side  of  my  head,  with  my  ears  all  a-ringing  and  noises  in 
'em,  and  those  dreadful  children  but  my  own  poor  sister's 
flesh  and  blood,  and  she  a-laying  in  her  grave.  I  don't 


282  LOST   IN   A    GREAT   CITY. 

want  to  do  it,  and  I  feel  a  drawing  that  way  with  a  sense 
of  duty  all  the  time,  and  living  in  the  house  with  other 
people,  and  a  great,  noisy,  dirty  city,  that  you  can  never 
clear  up  Saturday  afternoons  for  Sunday.  It  would  be 
selfish,  me  a-staying  here  and  them  poor  children  going  to 
ruin ;  but  how  can  I  leave  this  house,  where  I've  lived  so 
long,  and  every  inch  of  rag  carpet  the  work  of  my  own 
hands,  and  the  chair-cushions  with  bits  of  people's  dresses 
in  'ein  and  some  of  'em  dead,  and  poor  mother's  blue  ware 
that  I've  drank  tea  out  of  ever  since  'Mirny  was  married, 
for  she  wanted  the  china,  and  would  you  believe  it  there 
isn't  a  smitch  of  that  china  left,  and  poor  mother  setting 
such  store  by  it  that  she  would  only  take  it  out  when  Elder 
Perkins  come  to  tea.  But  whatever  shall  I  do  ?  "  and  she 
looked  at  Queenie  in  a  most  pathetically  helpless  manner. 

A  strange  desire  had  flashed  over  Queenie  during  the 
evening's  conversation.  Bartlett  was  lovely  with  its  green 
fields  and  quiet  river,  its  pretty  cottages  and  quaint,  old- 
fashioned  ways.  But  something  stirred  her  like  a  distant 
ring  of  martial  music.  If  she  could  get  to  the  city  without 
leaving  Miss  Madeira  I 

u  Are  the  children  so  very  bad  ?  "  she  asked  slowly,  cau- 
tiously attacking  the  outposts. 

"  Well,  my  dear,  they're  different  in  cities.  What  with 
standing  on  their  heads  so  much,  and  whistling,  and  wear- 
ing out  the  knees  of  their  trousers,  I  do  believe  I  patched 
every  pair,  some  of  'em  twice  over.  And  I  never  was  much 
of  a  hand  for  babies,  and  they  two  alike  as  two  peas  with 
their  thumbs  in  their  mouths.  Oh,  I  don't  believe  I  ever 
could,  and  if  it  rose  up  against  me  at  the  judgment-day,  the 
Lord  saying, '  Miss  Madeira,  where  are  them  poor,  mother- 
less children  that  you  didn't  clothe  and  feed,'  —  figgera- 
tively,  my  dear,  for  their  father  '11  pay  for  it  all,  —  '  and 
visit  and  care  for,  but  let  'em  go  to  destruction  because 
you  wanted  to  sit  in  ease  and  comfort  under  your  own 


TWINS   AND   TROUBLE.  283 

vine  and  fig-tree,  not  doing  the  Lord's  will  like  an  ungrate- 
ful Jonah.'  " 

"  I'd  help  you,  dear  Miss  Madeira,"  and  Queenie  laid  her 
shining,  golden  head  on  the  other's  knee,  while  she  pressed 
the  thin  hand  on  her  warm,  dimpled  cheek.  "Maybe  —  " 
and  there  rushed  over  her  a  sudden  vision.  Kate  —  Mag- 
gie, a  strange,  intangible  future,  with  something  in  its  dim 
horizon  that  made  every  pulse  thrill. 

"  I  couldn't  think  of  going  without  you,  Queenie,  And 
maybe  you  might  find  your  folks.  But  I  don't  know's  I 
could  give  you  up,  Queenie ;  and  if  I  did  I  don't  believe  I 
could  live  alone  again,  there's  such  a  drawing  in  my  soul  to 
some  human  thing,  after  being  alone  nigh  on  to  fifty  years 
without  a  chick  or  a  child,  and  Cissy's  hair  being  curly,  like 
yours,  only  redder,  and  Pug  calling  her  Bricktop  and  other 
names.  And  if  it's  a  decree  of  Providence  'twill  be  so  in 
the  end,  no  matter  how  I  may  fight  agin  it,  and  I  have 
a  feeling  in  my  bones  it  will  be,  but  I  don't  want  to  go  for 
all  that." 

Queenie  comforted  and  soothed,  and  perhaps  coaxed  a 
little  in  her  soft,  cunning  way,  and  after  a  good  cry  Miss 
Madeira  tied  on  her  night-cap  and  knelt  down  to  pray  that 
she  might  be  directed  rightly. 

"I  don't  know  but  I've  made  a  sort  of  golden  calf  of  this 
place,"  she  broke  out  again,  suddenly,  after  they  were  set- 
tled snug  in  bed.  "  I've  put  my  ear-rings  and  trinkets, 
which  is  a  figger,  in  it,  and  fixed  everything  to  my  liking, 
for  you  see  we  had  to  sell  the  old  house  when  'Mirny  was 
married,  on  account  of  there  being  more  room,  and  she 
wanting  her  money,  and  she  picking  out  what  she  liked  in 
bedding  and  linen,  going  among  strangers  and  wanting  to 
look  as  good  as  the  best,  and  not  a  stitch  of  'em  left  now, 
and  Fve  had  my  way  here  like  the  children  in  the  wilder- 
ness when  Moses  was  out  of  sight,  and  grown  that  fond 
of  everything  that  I  do  'spose  it's  pretty  near  to  idolatry, 
BO  the  Lord's  going  to  show  me  that  we  have  no  abiding 


284  LOST   IN   A    GREAT   CITY. 

city  here,  and  that  it's  no  use  filling  our  barns  and  store- 
houses, but  we  must  go  out  to  the  heathen,  and  if  there 
ever  was  a  set  of  wild  Arabs  it's  poor  'Mirny's  children, 
though  they  are  my  own  kith  and  kin.  And  now  good- 
night, dear,  and  we  will  see  what  to-morrow  will  bring 
forth." 

To-morrow  morning  brought  a  fresh  array  of  arguments 
to  distract  Miss  Madeira.  Her  conscience  was  too  sensi- 
tive to  allow  her  to  shun  a  distasteful  duty,  and  yet  it  was 
like  wrenching  out  her  soul  to  leave  Bartlett.  More  than 
once  she  said  she  could  not. 

"If  I  were  at  home  regularly,  Miss  Madeira,  I  would  not 
ask  it  of  you,"  said  Captain  Mullins.  "  If  I  could  oversee 
a  housekeeper  or  a  servant  daily ;  but  to  be  away  three 
months  or  so  leaves  the  children  entirely  at  the  mercy  of 
strangers.  Even  if  you  would  promise  to  stay  a  year  or 
two,  that  would  be  a  great  favor." 

She  promised  before  he  left  her,  and  then  began  a  sad 
time  for  poor  Miss  Madeira. 

"A  very  foolish  woman,"  said  some  of  her  neighbors. 
"She'll  never  be  sorry  but  once,  and  that  all  the  time. 
The  idea  of  her  bothering  with  children ! "  and  indeed, 
the  whole  neighborhood  seemed  to  be  in  an  undue  state  of 
commotion. 

"  I  know  just  how  you  feel,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Burgess, 
kindly.  "  It  will  be  a  great  cross  and  trial,  but  I  do  think 
you  are  right.  The  only  pity  is  that  you  cannot  bring 
them  here,  city  influences  are  so  bad  for  children.  And 
we  shall  all  miss  you  so  much." 

That  was  a  grateful  meed. 

"  And  now,  Miss  Madeira,  what  are  you  going  to  do 
with  Queenie  ?  " 

"Do  with  her!"  and  Miss  Madeira  stared.  "Why,  I 
"ouldn't  go  without  her,  and  the  only  comfort  is  her  taking 
to  it  so  naturally.  It  isn't  as  if  she  had  lived  here  all  hei 
life." 


TWINS   AND   TROUBLE.  285 

"  I  should  be  very  glad  to  take  the  child.  We  all  like 
her  so  much." 

"  No,  I  couldn't  spare  her.  Giving  up  my  own  home  will 
be  hard  enough ; "  and  Miss  Madeira  wiped  some  tears  from 
her  eyes. 

Then  Mrs.  Stent  came  with  an  offer. 

"If  you  must  go  away,  and  want  to  rent  the  house 
and  furniture,  sister  Wardlow  will  jump  at  the  chance. 
There's  just  her  and  Hetty,  and  they're  both  as  neat  as 
wax ;  but  since  John  brought  home  his  wife  it  hasn't 
been  quite  the  same  to  them,  for  he  is  only  a  step-son, 
you  know.  She  can  have  her  living  there,  or  three  hun- 
dred a  year,  and  I  told  her  I'd  take  the  money  and  go. 
And  now  if  you'd  rent  them  your  house  they  will  be 
in  clover." 

So,  Providence  opened  the  path  for  them  to  go.  Miss 
Madeira  packed  up  her  choicest  belongings  and  stored 
them,  crying  over  every  article,  and  repeating  its  story 
until  Queenie  was  infected  with  a  like  spirit  of  sorrow. 
And  yet  she  was  glad,  with  the  buoyant  temperament  of 
childhood,  to  go  to  a  wider  sphere,  to  enjoy  new  sights 
and  sounds,  and  to  feel  that  fate  had  something  different 
in  store  for  her.  She  was  not  quite  satisfied  to  grow  up 
and  go  out  dress-making  with  her  dear  Miss  Madeira,  much 
as  she  loved  her. 

Mrs.  Wardlow  came  over  the  last  day  to  take  possession. 

"  It's  an  ill  wind  that  blows  no  one  any  good,"  she  said 
delightedly.  "  I  shall  be  as  happy  here  as  a  bee  in  a  sugar- 
cask,  and  when  you  want  a  little  run,  and  a  change,  you 
must  come  out  and  spend  a  week  or  two,  you'll  always  be 
welcome.  And  you  have  gone  to  do  a  good  work,  Miss 
Madeira,  though  you  must  trust  to  Providence  for  a  re- 
ward, for  you  won't  get  any  in  this  ungrateful  world." 

The  trunks  were  packed  and  sent  away,  and  Miss  Ma- 
deira lingered  on  the  threshold. 

"And  to  think  here's  just  whe*e  you  were  curled  up  in 


286  LOST  IN   A  GREAT   CITY. 

the  corner,  and  I  came  out  and  found  you  in  the  morning, 
thinking  it  was  a  dog,  —  and  you've  been  such  a  comfort,  — 
never  dreaming  then  we  was  to  set  out  together  some  day 
to  seek  our  fortunes  like ;  and  may  God  lead  us  back  to 
the  old  home  in  thankfulness  when  our  duty 's  done ;  so  kiss 
me,  Queenie,  in  your  own  loving  way,  as  if  every  door  and 
window  said  good-by." 


00  HEAR.  AND   YET  SO   FAR.  28't, 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

0O  NEAE,  AND  YET  BO  FAB. 

CAPTAIN  MULLINS  came  to  meet  them,  the  vessel  being 
laid  up  for  repairs.  He  had  been  moving,  too,  —  a  little  shell 
of  a  place,  but  he  knew  Miss  Madeira  would  like  living  by 
herself  best,  and  he  wanted  a  new  neighborhood  for  the 
children.  Rents  were  high,  but  this  was  up  near  the 
Park,  and  maybe  they  wouldn't  mind  the  shanty-like  ap- 
pearance. 

It  certainly  was  old  and  ricketty.  Its  compeers  had 
been  torn  down,  to  make  way  for  more  pretentious  houses, 
but  the  neighborhood  was  fair ;  there  was  a  school  not  far 
distant,  and  Tip  could  ride  to  and  fro  in  rainy  weather. 
Everything  was  in  heaps  and  piles,  and  very  discouraging, 
the  family  being  presided  over  by  a  brawny  Irishwoman, 
with  a  brogue  that  was  the  envy  and  distraction  of  Pug. 

Tip,  whose  real  name  was  Montgomery  De  Lisle,  was 
now  about  fourteen,  much  given  to  slang  and  smartness, 
and  feeling  himself  of  immense  consequence.  Pug,  some 
three  years  younger,  rejoiced  in  the  cognomen  of  Lafayette 
Sydenham,  but  certainly  the  shorter  name  was  more  ap- 
propriate. He  was  short  and  stout,  with  scrubby,  reddish 
hair,  a  very  much  freckled  face,  a  nose  that  turned  up,  a 
short  upper  lip,  with  a  similar  tendency,  and  a  funny  round 
chin,  that  betokened  a  like  aspiration.  Moppet  was  eight, 
and  something  in  the  same  style,  softened  into  girlish 
prettiness,  I  was  about  to  say,  but  she  was  only  pretty 
with  the  superb  health  and  audacity  of  childhood,  while 
Cissy  had  dark  hair,  and  eyes  like  her  father. 


288  LOST  IN   A  GREAT  CITY. 

But  the  twins  1 

They  were  as  much  like  two  puffy,  solemn,  blinking  toads 
as  anything  you  ever  saw.  They  had  surely  thriven  on 
dirt  and  neglect,  when  other  motherless  babies  would  have 
died.  Perhaps  their  very  lawlessness  was  the  key-note  to 
their  health.  None  of  the  children  minded  anything. 
They  ran  out  in  the  sunshine  or  the  rain ;  they  slept  in 
their  clothes  or  out  of  them,  in  a  bed,  or  in  the  corner 
where  they  happened  to  tumble,  and  nothing  seemed  to 
make  any  difference.  It  was  an  absolute  triumph  over 
civilization. 

"This  is  your  aunt  Madeira,"  announced  their  father. 
"You  remember  she  came  when  your  ma  died.  She  is 
going  to  take  charge  of  you,  and  I  hope  you'll  all  be  good 
and  obey  her.  Bridget,  show  Miss  Madeira  her  room,  and 
then  help  take  up  the  trunks.  I  hope  you  are  not  very 
tired,  for  I  want  a  good  talk  to-night,  as  to-morrow,  at  ten, 
I  shall  be  off  again." 

Queenie  stared  at  the  little  group,  in  amazement,  and 
then  followed  Miss  Madeira.  The  room  was  in  tolerable 
order.  It  had  a  worn,  dingy  velvet  carpet  on  the  floor,  a 
very-much  battered  black  walnut  suite,  with  stained  marble 
tops,  glaring  glass  and  china  vases,  and  a  toilet-set,  in 
which  there  was  hardly  a  whole  piece.  Added  to  this 
some  pictures,  in  tarnished  gilt  frames,  and  a  soiled  and 
tumbled  counterpane  on  the  bed,  and  you  will  grant  that 
the  room  did  not  look  very  inviting. 

This  was  a  fair  sample  of  the  whole  house.  Mrs.  Captain 
Mullins  had  been  addicted  to  cheap  finery,  and  now  the 
remnants  wore  a  very  shabby  look.  Miss  Madeira  cried  a 
little,  and  then  said  things  would  look  better  when  they 
had  a  thorough  good  cleaning. 

The  children  were  terrible,  certainly.  Miss  Madeira  was 
so  dazed  and  astonished  that  she  could  not  eat  a  mouthfuL 
Queenie  was  struck  with  a  sort  of  mirthful  wonder  at  so 
much  turbulence. 


80  NEAR,   AND   YET  SO    FAB.  289 

At  eight  the  next  morning  the  captain  said  good-by, 
after  exhorting  them  all  to  be  very  good,  and  promising  to 
bring  them  home  something  wonderful  if  they  were,  and 
then  uttering  a  hasty  farewell.  Moppet  followed  him  out 
to  the  sidewalk,  and,  sitting  down  on  the  stoop  step,  abso- 
lutely howled,  while  the  twins  joined  in  chorus.  Cissy  ran 
back  and  began  to  ride  down  the  banisters,  and  Pug  de- 
clared they  would  have  jolly  times,  "  now  the  guv'ner  had 
taken  out." 

"  You're  a  wicked  boy  I  "  shrieked  Moppet.  '"Suppose 
pa  should  get  drowned,  and  you  could  never  see  him 
again ! " 

"  Pooh !  Who  ever  heard  of  a  sea-captain  being  drownd- 
ed !  They  can  always  swim ! "  was  Pug's  reply,  in 
withering  disdain. 

"I'll  just  tell  him  when  he  comes  home,  you  bad, 
miserable  boy,  with  no  respect  —  " 

"Shut  your  head,  brick-top!  What  do  girls  know? 
And  they're  always  telling  tales!  " 

With  that  Moppet  forgot  her  grief,  and  sprang  up 
fiercely.  The  two  clinched  for  a  scrimmage. 

It  was  no  unusual  thing.  They  often  settled  a  dis- 
pute in  this  fashion. 

"  Oh  dear  1 "  cried  Miss  Madeira,  wringing  her  hands. 
a  Their  poor  mother  in  her  grave,  and  their  father  hardly 
out  of  sight!  Whatever  am  I  to  do  with  'em?  I've 
never  had  a  chick  nor  child,  and  this  is  worse  than  contrary 
hens,  when  you  try  to  shoo  them  out  of  a  door-yard.  And 
there  is  that  sweet  little  hymn  they  don't  know  a  word  of 
—  'But  children  you  should  never  let,'  —  and  oh,  there's 
the  twins ! " 

Miss  Madeira  stood  there,  the  picture  of  Despair  and  be- 
wilderment. Bridget  rushed  out  and  parted  the  com- 
batants, administering  to  each  sundry  cuffs.  Pug  wriggled 
out,  and  ran  down  the  street,  his  fingers  applied  suggest- 
ively to  his  nose.  Moppet  was  brought  in  by  the  shoulder 
19 


290  LOST  IN  A   GREAT  CITY. 

aiid  thrust  into  a  chair,  from  which  she  rose  like  a  Jack  in 
a  box  the  instant  Bridget's  hand  left  her. 

The  twins  always  cried  when  any  one  else  did,  seeming 
to  be  touched  more  deeply  by  sympathy  than  by  their  own 
sorrows.  They  sat  on  the  floor,  now,  two  puffy  pyramids, 
howling  to  the  extent  of  their  lungs.  Cissy  was  consoling 
herself  by  building  a  wall  of  the  best  books. 

Queenie  laughed  at  the  ludicrous  picture,  then  stooped 
to  comfort  the  wailing  babies.  Miss  Madeira  recovered  a 
little  from  her  astonishment,  and  ventured  to  advise  Cissy 
about  the  books,  but  was  told  to  "Mind  her  own  business, 
and  not  come  bossing  her,  or  she'd  find  herself  higher  'n  a 
kite,"  at  which  she  prudently  withdrew. 

But  presently  a  show  of  order  reigned>and  the  two 
girls,  remembering  their  father  had  given  them  a  quarter 
apiece,  rushed  out  to  spend  it,  Cissy  giving  the  books  a 
farewell  kick. 

Miss  Madeira  took  Queenie  up-stairs  for  counsel.  Never 
in  all  her  life  had  that  worthy  woman  been  so  perplexed. 

**  If  I  had  not  promised,  and  poor,  dear  sister  lying  in 
her  grave,  with  the  children  all  in  rags  again,  and  the 
house  not  fit  to  be  seen ;  and  he  said  I  was  to  do  just  what 
I  liked ;  but  there's  no  home  like  your  own ;  and  if  we 
only  were  back,  Queenie,  for  I  am  afeared  this  will  be  the 
death  of  me  as  to  wits,  for  I  can't  remember  so  much  as  a 
night-cap  or  a  handkerchief;  and  they  laying  out  in  their 
nice  piles  at  home,  and  the  drawers  and  everything  a  mop 
of  dirt  here.  I  only  wonder  poor  sister  didn't  die  long 
ago,  and  I  shall  not  draw  a  decent  breath  till  the  house  is 
all  cleaned  over  again.  As  for  Bridget  —  Captain  Mullins 
said  I  might  send  her  away,  and  have  a  woman  to  wash  and 
iron  instead;  as  for  the  cooking,  I'm  afeared  of  such  messes, 
and  potatoes  not  boiled  fit  to  eat.  Whatever  shall  we  do?" 

Her  look  was  so  pathetic  that  Queenie  flew  to  her  and 
kissed  the  thin  cheek. 

"  It  is  dreadful,  dear  Miss  Madeira,  but  we  might  get  the 


80  NEAR,  AND   YET   SO    PAR.  291 

house  cleaner  by  and  by,  and  the  children  in  better  order, 
Moppet  and  Pug  could  go  to  school,  and  that  would  make 
a  little  quiet ;  then  I  think  I  could  look  after  Cissy  and  the 
babies." 

"  You  do  draw  things  out  of  a  snarl  so,  Queenie.  The 
Lord  must  a'known  all  about  this  when  you  ran  away,  and 
huddled  up  in  a  corner  of  the  stoop,  and  me  a-sleeping  in 
a  Christian  bed,  which  I  never  can  forgive  myself,  but  for 
being  timid  and  not  liking  to  search  round  out  of  doors  at 
night.  But  you  are  a  darling  and  a  picter,  and  the  great 
comfort  of  my  life,  coming  here  to  this  hurrying,  worrying 
city  where  one  can't  get  a  breath,  with  an  Irish  servant-girl 
at  their  elbow.  The  captain  said  I  must  take  the  children 
to  school,  but  I  don't  know  where  it  is;  and  oh,  my!  I  feel 
like  a  hen  with  her  head  cut  off,  caterin'  round  and  not 
able  to  see  where  she's  going." 

Miss  Madeira  cried  a  little,  then  wiped  her  eyes,  and  de- 
clared she  must  do  something  or  she  should  lose  the  little 
sense  God  had  given  her. 

So  to  work  they  went  with  a  good  will.  Up  came  the 
carpet  in  Miss  Madeira's  room,  and  in  spite  of  Bridget's 
declaration  "  that  the  whole  house  had  been  kalsomined, 
and  that  white-washing  was  so  old-fashioned  no  lady 
would  think  of  living  in  a  white-washed  house,"  Miss  Ma- 
deira procured  some  lime,  and  rejoiced  in  the  fresh,  whole- 
some smell.  Drawers,  closets,  nooks,  and  corners,  under- 
went a  thorough  revision.  Bridget  went  off  in  high  dud- 
geon. "  She  knew  a  rale  lady  when  she  saw  her,  and  she 
wasn't  going  to  put  up  with  a  skimpy  old  maid  who  didn't 
have  sinse  enough  to  wear  an  overskirt  or  a  waterfall ! " 

"  I'm  glad  she's  gone ! "  exclaimed  Miss  Madeira,  much 
relieved.  "And  to  tell  the  truth,  Captain  Mullins  could 
not  afford  the  waste  of  that  creature,  my  dear,  —  with  soap 
and  starch  and  sugar  disappearing  in  a  twinkling,  and  cold 
meat  thrown  away  that  could  be  cooked  over,  and  the 
pieces  of  bread,  —  as  if  we  lived  right  over  a  mint  of  money 


LOST  IN   A   GREAT  CITY. 

and  shovelled  it  up  like  so  much  coal ;  and  she  a-setting 
the  children  up  against  me  all  the  time,  and  fair  to  my  face; 
but  you  can't  most  always  tell,  and  beauty  is  vain,  though 
she  was  the  plainest  woman  I  ever  saw,  and  not  young 
either  that  she  should  throw  being  an  old  maid  in  my  face; 
yet  I've  come  to  thank  the  Lord  for  that,  and  a  quiet  life 
when  I  had  it;  but  His  way  is  past  finding  out,  which  is  a 
comfort,  for  if  I'd  had  these  children  and  poor  dear  dead 
sister  to  think  of  all  my  life,  I'd  nigh  about  gone  crazy,  and 
I  don't  know  but  I  shall  now." 

After  about  a  month  they  reached  a  state  of  tolerable 
order.  The  house  was  clean,  the  meals  well  cooked,  the 
two  older  children  in  school,  Cissy  and  the  twins  reduced 
to  a  state  of  management  through  Queenie's  patience  and 
happy  adaptiveness.  There  was  not  an  angel  among  them 
all,  in  fact  they  were  sometimes  so  bad  that  Queenie  was 
at  her  wits'  end.  Yet  they  took  to  her  wonderfully,  in 
fact  began  to  adore  her,  and  generally  obeyed  her  much 
more  readily  than  they  would  their  aunt. 

It  was  hard  work  for  Queenie,  and  yet  she  would  not 
have  gone  back  to  her  simple  country  life.  Here  was  the 
great,  boundless  city,  the  throngs  of  people,  the  stir  and 
activity,  the  intangible  something  that  she  could  not,  dared 
not  put  into  words,  but  she  knew  it  was  the  hope  of  find- 
ing an  old  friend  some  day,  of  stepping  into  a  new  and 
different  existence. 

And  there  was  the  wonderful  park.  She  used  to  take 
the  babies  and  Cissy,  and  though  it  was  a  task  to  draw  the 
lumpy  little  ones  in  their  wagon,  the  sights  and  sounds 
always  repaid  her.  To  sit  and  dream  under  the  shady 
trees,  to  see  the  elegant  carriages  go  by  with  their  smiling 
and  richly  dressed  occupants,  to  watch  the  great  ladies 
out  with  their  babies,  who  were  all  a  fleece  of  lawn,  lace, 
and  embroidery,  and  trim,  jaunty  nursemaids,  was  like 
reading  a  page  out  of  a  book.  In  one  sense  it  educated 
her,  She  came  to  have  a  certain  style  in  carrying  herself, 


80  NEAR,  AND  YET   SO   PAR.  293 

in  speaking,  even  in  the  graceful  indolence  with  which  she 
would  sometimes  sit.  More  than  one  person  gave  her  a 
second  glance,  but  she  was  very  modest,  and  still  too  much 
of  a  child  to  attract  any  designing  watcher. 

If  only  some  day  Kate  would  come  riding  by !  Or  how 
strange  it  would  be  if  among  the  many  nurses  she  should 
some  time  light  upon  Maggie.  When  these  thoughts 
entered  her  mind  a  sudden  thrill  would  send  the  blood 
speeding  through  her  veins. 

Once  she  and  Miss  Madeira  went  down  Broadway. 

"  It  is  just  here  that  I  was  lost,"  she  cried,  pointing  out 
the  place.  "  Maggie  went  over,  and  I  was  so  frightened 
that  I  ran  back,  and  down  some  street.  How  wild  I  was! 
I  do  wonder  what  became  of  Maggie,  and  whether  she 
ever  found  my  own  papa?" 

Miss  Madeira  could  not  answer,  but  she  caught  the 
child's  arm  tightly,  lest  she  should  be  lost  again. 

Captain  Mullins  returned  to  find  the  most  wonderful 
charm  worked  in  his  household.  True,  Tip  was  full  of  airs 
and  graces,  and  the  authority  of  a  boy  who  begins  to  feel 
great,  but  he  appreciated  the  cleanliness  and  order.  Pug 
stood  on  his  head,  turned  summersaults,  and  puzzled  aunt 
Madeira  with  the  funniest  and  sauciest  of  slang,  but  even 
he  was  improving.  Moppet  cried  and  quarrelled ;  she  could 
pick  a  dispute  out  of  an  empty  peanut  shell,  but  her  father 
thought  her  marvellously  toned  down.  As  for  the  babies, 
they  were  simply  perfection. 

I  doubt  if  Captain  Mullens  had  ever  so  enjoyed  being 
on  shore,  —  certainly  not  since  the  first  year  of  his  mar- 
riage. Miss  Madeira  might  be  old  and  queer,  and  jumble 
her  sentences  all  together,  but  it  could  be  forgiven  in  a 
woman  who  made  such  bread,  and  could  cook  a  steak  to 
perfection,  to  say  nothing  of  dishes  that  were  polished 
until  they  shone,  and  chair-backs  that  felt  clean  to  the 
touch. 

Of  course  the  children  rioted  and  broke  out  of  all  syste- 


294  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

matic  habits,  —  it  was  vacation,  besides  being  the  occasion 
of  their  father's  visit, —  but  they  had  a  grand  good  time. 
He  hired  a  great  family  carriage,  and  took  them  all  about 
the  park,  and  afterwards  they  went  up  for  sails  on  the  lake, 
and  donkey-rides.  What  a  gala  time  it  was,  to  be  sure ! 

"  I  don't  see  how  you  have  managed,  sister  Madeira," 
exclaimed  the  captain ;  "  and  to  get  along  without  a  ser- 
vant !  I  am  afraid  you  are  making  it  too  hard  for  yourself 
and  little  Queenie  here.  You  must  have  some  witchcraft." 

Miss  Madeira  smiled,  and  pushed  up  her  glasses. 

"  You  see,"  she  said,  as  if  apologizing,  "  Queenie  and  1 
have  been  so  used  to  working  in  our  own  fashion  that  we 
can't  stand  other  peoples'  ways,  and  they're  that  careless 
and  dirty,  besides  the  expense,  and  too  impudent,  with 
setting  up  what  a  lady  shan't  do,  and  what  she  shall,  and 
keeping  you  out  of  the  kitchen  that  they  may  throw  away 
enough  for  two  or  three,  economy  looking  stingy  to  them. 
I'm  glad  you're  pleased,  and  I  hope  you'll  think  that  poor, 
dear  sister  would  be  satisfied  if  she  could  see  it  all." 

"  Satisfied  1 "  And  then  Captain  Mullins  bethought  him- 
self. He  would  not  reflect  on  the  dead ;  but  he  knew  in 
his  soul  that  nothing  ever  had  quite  satisfied  Mrs.  Mullens, 
even  when  she  had  been  indulged  in  her  own  way  to  the 
uttermost. 

Queenie  captivated  him  just  as  she  had  the  other  mem- 
bers of  the  family.  He  used  to  watch  her  pretty,  motherly 
ways  with  the  children,  her  happy  faculty  of  settling  dis- 
putes, and  her  many  methods  of  amusement,  being  much 
wiser  in  this  respect  than  Miss  Madeira. 

He  became  strangely  interested  in  her  history  as  well, 
and  wondered  whether  it  would  not  be  a  good  thing  to 
advertise. 

"And  I  think  she  ought  to  go  to  school,"  he  said,  kindly. 
"  I  feel  that  I  have  no  right  to  take  all  her  time  for  my 
children.  She  will  grow  up  to  womanhood,  ere  long ;  and 
she  is  too  pretty  to  be  left  at  the  mercy  of  ignorance." 


80  NEAR,  AND  YET  80  PAR.  295 

Miss  Madeira  talked  it  over  with  her. 

« I'd  rather  stay  at  home,  and  help  you,"  she  cried,  "  and 
study  some,  as  I  get  a  chance.  But  oh,  Miss  Madeira,  if 
Captain  Mullins  thought  he  could  —  it  would  cost  a  good 
deal,  I  suppose,  but  it  would  make  me  so  happy ; "  and  her 
soft,  dark  eyes  were  all  aglow  with  hope. 

"  What  is  it,  my  dear  ?  " 

"  If  I  could  take  lessons  in  music !  Madame  Felix 
would  teach  me,  and  it  would  be  so  delightful.  Some- 
times I  take  the  babies  in,  and  she  plays  for  me  and  sings. 
I  can't  tell  how  it  is,  only  I  seem  then  to  remember  some- 
thing about  my  own  mamma.  And  she  thinks  I  could 
learn  so  easily." 

"  I  wonder  if  it  would  be  good  judgment  ? "  said  Miss 
Madeira,  thoughtfully.  "If  you  could  learn  enough  to 
teach ;  but  there'd  be  the  piano,  and  they  cost  a  mint  of 
money,  —  not  but  what  you  deserve  it  all,  and  more,  — • 
and  maybe  the  captain'd  want  a  piano  for  Moppet  and 
Cissy,  though  why  people  shouldn't  have  good  Christian 
names,  and  be  called  by  them,  puzzles  me.  Sister  used  to 
think  Bible  names  so  dreadful,  and  I  can't  say  that  Bath- 
sheba  is  an  easy  one  to  call,  but  Daphne  and  Psyche  don't 
better  the  matter  any,  to  my  thinking.  And  Mullins, 
somehow,  seems  so  plain  a  name  to  tack  all  the  others 
to." 

Queenie  laughed  a  little.  Captain  Mullins  liked  the  fan- 
ciful names  bestowed  by  his  wife  so  little,  indeed,  that  he 
never  used  them.  If  the  children  had  not  been  christened 
he  would  certainly  have  suggested  that  Miss  Madeira  re- 
name them  to  her  liking. 

The  music  plan  was  mentioned,  and  Captain  Mullins 
assented  most  cordially,  though  he  could  hardly  give  up 
the  school.  Madame  Felix  lived  at  the  end  of  the  block,  — 
kept  house  in  a  simple,  half  French,  fashion  in  three  rooms, 
supporting  herself  and  her  blind,  invalid  husband,  —  a 
email,  dark,  plain  woman,  who  had  taken  a  great  fancy  to 


296  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

the  sunny-haired  girl,  and  asked  her  in  now  and  then  of 
an  evening. 

Miss  Madeira  went  to  call  with  Queenie.  Madame 
Felix  received  them  cordially,  and  spoke  with  a  pretty 
accent  that  made  you  forget  her  plainness.  She  would  be 
delighted  to  take  the  little  girl ;  she  knew  her  so  well 
already,  and  she  had  a  musical  face,  musical  hands,  too. 
And  if  she  would  come  in  the  evening,  for  madame  had 
all  the  day  engagements  that  she  could  attend  to. 

Queenie  was  wild  with  delight.  And  then  Captain 
Mullens  had  to  go  away,  much  to  his  sorrow,  for  he  had 
never  so  enjoyed  his  home.  Moppet  was  inconsolable, 
and  made  so  much  trouble  that  Miss  Madeira  was  at  her 
wits'  end ;  but  then  school  began,  which  created  quite  a 
diversion,  and  quieted  the  house  wonderfully. 

Two  evenings  a  week  Queenie  spent  with  her  new 
friend,  Madame  Felix.  She  always  gave  the  babies  their 
supper,  and  put  them  to  bed ;  indeed,  Miss  Maderia  was 
helpless  as  a  baby  herself  when  it  came  to  managing  them. 
But  when  Queenie  took  them  in  hand  they  generally 
yielded  at  once,  allowed  their  hands  and  faces  to  be 
washed,  and  trotted  up-stairs  in  the  wake  of  their  small 
mistress,  whose  rule  was  of  the  gentlest.  If  they  were 
very  bad  she  would  not  sit  by  the  crib  and  sing,  but  go 
down  at  once.  When  they  saw  her  golden  head  vanish- 
ing from  the  door-way,  they  gave  in,  and  cried  out,  "  Polly 
will  be  dood  1 "  «  Tassy  will  be  dood  ! "  and  then  Queenie 
would  run  back  smiling,  and  kiss  their  little  red  lips. 

There  had  been  one  quite  serious  mutiny  with  the 
older  ones  after  their  father's  departure.  Pug  and  Moppet 
had  behaved  dreadfully  to  their  aunt,  and  told  her  she  was 
a  sharp-nosed  old  maid,  who  had  come  there  purposely  to 
marry  their  father,  but  that  they  wouldn't  have  her  for  a 
step-mother;  indeed,  Pug  declared  he  would  punch  her 
head  first. 

"Marrv    your    father !"   cried    Miss    Madeira,    aghast; 


80  NEAR,   AND   YET  SO   FAB.  297 

14  when  I  haven't  a  chick  nor  a  child  of  my  own  except 
Queenie,  and  a  nice  comfortable  home,  where  I  shouldn't 
have  to  work  half  so  hard !  Marry  your  father  when  your 
poor,  dear  mother  is  hardly  cold  in  her  grave!  What 
wicked  children  to  think  of  such  a  thing!" 

"  Then  you  had  better  march,"  said  Pug,  with  an  air  of 
authority.  "We  don't  wan't  you  poking  around  here. 
We  can  get  along  with  Queenie." 

Miss  Madeira  tried  to  reason,  to  command,  but  the  bat- 
tle only  raged  the  more  fiercely. 

At  this  juncture  Queenie  entered  the  room,  and  took  in 
the  scene. 

"  Children  1 "  she  cried,  "  holding  her  golden-crowned 
head  up  to  its  fullest  height,  —  M  children,  I  am  amazed  at 
you !  Do  you  really  want  aunt  Madeira  to  go  away  ?  " 

There  was  a  chorus  of  affirmative  voices. 

"Very  well."  Then  she  went  straight  over  to  Miss 
Madeira,  and  put  her  arms  around  the  astonished  woman's 
neck.  "Dear  Miss  Madeira,  let  us  go  away,  since  the  chil- 
dren are  so  naughty.  We  will  find  a  servant  to  take  care 
of  them,  and  we  two  will  live  in  peace  and  happiness  in 
your  pretty  little  cottage." 

"  I  don't  care  !  "  ejaculated  Moppet,  sulkily. 

"  But  we  don't  want  you  to  go ! "  shouted  Pug.  M  We 
like  you.  You  may  stay  and  marry  father  when  you  get 
to  be  a  big  woman,  and  we'll  all  mind  you.  But  we  don't 
want  any  old  maids  around." 

"  We  shall  both  go,"  said  Queenie,  firmly.  "  Come,  dear 
Miss  Madeira,  let  us  go  up-stairs  and  pack  our  trunks." 

"You  shan't  go,"  screamed  Cissy,  catching  Queenie'r 
dress.  "I  love  you,  and  who  will  tell  us  stories,  and  tuck 
us  up  in  bed,  and  make  'lasses  candy,  and  sing  for  us,  and 
take  us  to  the  Park  ?  " 

Queenie  put  the  child  aside,  and  led  Miss  Madeira  up- 
stairs. She  paused,  bewildered,  and  glanced  into  the  soft, 
dark  eyes. 


298  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

« We  must  let  them  believe  it,  auntie  Madeira,"  she 
said,  gayly,  yet  there  were  tears  glittering  on  her  long 
lashes. 

" I  wonder  if  they  think  I  should  be  such  an  old  fool  as 
to  marry  their  father?"  she  jerked  out.  "Me,  without  a 
chick  nor  a  child,  and  they  the  very  torments  of  the  earth ! 
I  should  be  glad  enough  to  have  him  marry  some  one  who 
will  make  them  stand  around  sharp.  Oh,  dear,  it  is  an  un- 
grateful office,  and  if  it  was  my  mother  instead  of  me  Mop- 
pet would  get  spanked  soundly,  the  audacious  little  huzzy ! 
But  I  don't  feel  as  if  I  could  beat  one  of  my  poor,  dear 
sister's  children,  and  she  hardly  cold  in  her  grave." 

"Oh,  no,  don't  beat  them,  poor  little  things,"  said 
Queenie,  pitifully,  and  then  she  smiled,  knowing  the  rebels 
richly  deserved  it. 

There  was  a  great  uproar  in  the  kitchen  for  a  while, 
then  it  subsided,  and  the  three  dispersed  in  the  street. 
Queenie  brought  up  some  bread  and  milk,  and  fed  the 
babies,  made  a  cup  of  tea  for  Miss  Madeira,  and  cut  a  plate 
of  sandwiches,  which  they  two  enjoyed. 

It  was  dusk  when  the  children  came  in,  hungry  as  bears 
from  their  run,  and  prepared  to  oppose  lawful  authority  to 
the  uttermost.  There  was  no  light,  the  fire  was  nearly 
out,  and  instead  of  the  plentiful  supper  an  empty  table. 
Had  Queenie  and  aunt  Madeira  really  gone  ? 

Cissy  began  to  cry.  Pug  made  a  light,  and  ransacked 
the  pantry.  There  was  some  bread,  but  the  butter-jar 
could  not  be  found ;  the  cake-tin  contained  only  a  few 
broken  pieces. 

"There  always  seemed  to  be  enough  for  supper,"  ex- 
claimed Pug.  "I  wonder  what  they  can  have  done  with 
it  ?  "  glancing  around  hi  perplexity. 

"Do  you  suppose  they  really  will  go?"  and  Moppet's 
bravado  began  to  ooze  out.  « I  am  afraid  to  stay  alone  at 
tight." 

"  I'm  afraid,  too,"  and  Cissy  cried  louder  than   even 


80  NEAR,  AND   TET  SO   FAB.  299 

Moppet  undertook  to  make  her  hush,  but  it  ended  by  the 
little  one  running  up-stairs. 

Moppet  and  Pug  set  about  making  a  fire,  with  a  vague 
idea  that  the  supper  would  in  some  way  prepare  itself. 
They  raised  a  great  smoke,  and  burned  their  fingers,  which 
seemed  to  be  the  signal  for  another  scrimmage. 

Cissy,  meanwhile,  found  refuge  up-stairs,  being  taken  on 
Queenie's  lap  and  undressed,  but  she  had  to  go  to  bed 
supperless.  The  twins  were  sleeping  sweetly,  unconscious 
of  the  mutiny  in  the  household. 

"I  don't  want  you  to  go  away,"  said  Cissy,  between 
tears  and  cunning  little  kisses.  "  You  will  stay  and  give 
me  some  breakfast,  won't  you  ?  " 

"Ask  auntie  Madeira.     If  she  goes,  I  must  go  too." 

"  But  you  won't  go,  dear  auntie  Madeira  ?  "  said  the 
little  thing,  coaxingly.  "  I  should  starve.  And  I  won't  be 
naughty  any  more.  I  do  love  you." 

With  that  she  crawled  up  in  Misa  Madeira's  lap,  and 
made  all  manner  of  promises. 

"  Dear  little  thing,"  said  Miss  Madeira,  after  Cissy  had 
been  tucked  in  bed.  "They're  not  pretty,  and  they  all 
have  such  heathenish  names,  but  one  can't  help  loving 
them,  and  my  not  being  fond  of  children  naturally ;  only 
it  happened  so  lucky,  Queenie,  that  the  Lord  sent  you  to 
prepare  the  way,  like  John  the  Baptist.  But  I'm  afraid 
I  am  an  old  fool,  after  all ! " 

"Dear  Miss  Madeira,  you  are  the  best  and  sweetest 
friend  in  the  wide  world.  Think  how  you  took  me  in,  a 
stranger,  and  how  you  have  loved  me.  And  that  is  the 
quality  of  your  love." 

"  But  you're  near  to  being  an  angel.  It's  no  great  stretch 
of  love  to  be  good  to  you." 

And  then  the  sweet  young  girl  and  the  foolish  old  girl 
clasped  hands  tenderly. 


300  LOST  IN  A  GREAT   CITY. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

THE    QUEEN   OF   THE   HOUSEHOLD. 

PUG  went  out  and  borrowed  ten  cents  of  a  boy  he  knew, 
and  bought  a  generous  cut  of  Washington  pie,  but  wo- 
man-like, Moppet  had  to  stay  at  home.  It  was  chilly  in  the 
kitchen,  and  her  burnt  finger  hurt  sadly.  She  cried  a  lit- 
tle, took  another  search  through  the  pantry,  and  then  ran 
up-stairs  rapidly,  feeling  that  there  might  be  some  one  be- 
hind to  catch  her.  Cissy  was  not  asleep.  She  had  to  tell 
over  her  good  fortune.  She  was  not  going  to  be  naughty 
any  more ;  and  if  auntie  Madeira  went  home,  she  was  go- 
ing with  her,  and  the  twins,  and  Moppet  could  get  her  own 
breakfast;  and  Pug  was  as  naughty  as  he  could  be. 

"Pug  is  awfully  bad,"  said  Moppet.  "I  think  father 
ought  to  take  him  to  sea  next  time.  We  should  get  along 
real  nicely  without  him.  Only  aunt  Madeira  is  an  old 
maid." 

u  I  like  old  maids.  I  mean  to  be  one  myself,"  returned 
Cissy,  confidently.  "And  I'll  have  a  little  house  in  the 
country,  and  when  your  children  are  dreadful  bad  I  shall 
go  there  and  stay,  and  you'll  be  awfully  sorry." 

"  I'm  hungry ;  I  know  that,"  was  the  rather  grim  and 
irrelevant  rejoinder. 

*  And  auntie  Madeira  makes  such  good  things  to  eat," 
said  the  little  gourmand. 

Moppet  sighed.  "  Do  you  really  believe  she  will  go,  and 
Queenie  ?  And  will  we  have  any  breakfast  ?  " 

Cissy  rose  up  in  the  bed,  her  dark  eyes  staring  solemnly, 
and  filled  with  a  new  resolve. 

"  Mop,"  and  she  put  her  arms  tightly  about  her  sister's 


THE  QUEEN   OF  THE   HOUSEHOLD.  301 

neck,  **  let's  go  and  coax  her !  You  just  say  you're  sorry, 
and  that  you  won't  do  so  any  more.  You  are  a  little 
sorry,  aren't  you?"  and  her  tone  was  one  of  strategic 
entreaty. 

"Well,  my  finger's  burned,  and  I'd  like  to  have  some- 
thing to  eat,"  returned  Moppet,  with  a  deliberation  that 
could  hardly  be  esteemed  penitential.  "  And  some  of  the 
girls  at  school  said  pa  would  marry  her.  I  shouldn't 
mind  a  real  nice,  pretty  step-mother,  with  curly  hair,  and 
diamond  rings,  and  silk  dresses ,  and  oh,  a  carriage  to  take 
us  out  in  the  park!  I'd  love  her,  and  be  ever  so  good." 

"  We  might  ask  pa  about  it  when  he  comes  back,"  said 
Cissy. 

"I  guess  I  can  wait  until  morning,"  began  Moppet, 
presently.  "I'm  getting  nice  and  snug  now,  and  shall 
soon  be  sleepy,  and  my  finger  doesn't  hurt  so  much  as  it 
did." 

But  for  all  that  Cissy  fell  asleep  the  first,  and  Moppet 
had  rather  a  solemn  time  with  her  thoughts.  Once  she 
was  sure  she  heard  robbers  in  the  house,  and  quickly  cov- 
ered up  her  head.  It  would  be  terrible  to  live  alone,  with- 
out aunt  Madeira." 

Pug  came  in,  and  stumbled  up-stairs  in  the  dark,  for  he 
didn't  know  just  where  to  find  a  lamp.  Then  Queenie 
went  softly  down  and  locked  the  doors  and  windows. 

"  But  there's  to-morrow ! "  said  the  troubled  woman, 
brushing  out  her  little  wisp  of  hair  and  twisting  it  very 
tight. 

"And  a  good  many  to-morrows,"  laughed  Queenie. 
"But  I  think  when  the  rebels  are  starved  out  they  will 
capitulate.  At  all  events,  it  won't  do  for  us  to  haul  down 
our  colors." 

Pug  was  up  quite  early,  for  a  wonder.  There  was  a 
stir  in  aunt  Madeira's  room,  and  the  twins  were  talking, 
but  the  kitchen  was  deserted.  He  sauntered  around, 
whistled  to  keep  up  his  courage,  was  desperately  hungry, 


302  LOST   IN   A    GREAT  CITY. 

walked  round  the  block,  came  back  and  roused  Moppet, 

Seven  o'clock  —  half  past  —  eight. 

Cissy  went  to  reconnoitre,  and  came  back  with  big  eyes 
swimming  in  tears. 

"  They  are  really  going,"  she  announced.  "The  trunk  is 
packed,  the  babies  are  dressed  and  waiting,  and  their  hats 
and  things  are  on  the  bed.  And  Queenie  said"  —  here 
her  voice  quivered  over  a  big  sob  —  "that  I  had  better 
stay  with  you,  but  I  don't  want  to,  and  I  do  want  some 
breakfast." 

His  little  sister's  sorrow  made  Pug  feel  rather  solemn. 
Moppet's  defiance  was  all  gone  out  of  her  face,  and  she 
did  look  really  troubled. 

"  I  could  do  well  enough  if  it  wasn't  for  you  girls,"  said 
Pug,  with  a  mannish  air.  "  But,  I  say,  how  did  Tip  get 
some  breakfast?" 

Queenie  could  have  told  of  a  private  arrangement,  made 
last  evening,  whereby  Tip  was  to  go  to  an  eating-house. 

"And  oh,  suppose  he's  run  away!"  cried  Moppet,  "  and 
we're  to  be  left  all  alone.  Oh,  Pug,  if  you  only  hadn't 
said  —  if  you  hadn't  been  so  very  bad  and  saucy  —  stop 
crying,  Cissy." 

"  I  wasn't  any  worse  than  you,"  was  the  quick  rejoinder. 
"You  said  you  wouldn't  have  a  cross  old  maid  in  the 
house  —  " 

"  Well,  you  said  we  needn't  mind  her  —  " 

tt  And  we  needn't  —  " 

"  But  if  we  should  starve.  Oh,  you  bad,  wicked  boy  ! " 
and  Moppet  burst  into  loud  crying. 

Queenie  opened  the  door,  and  came  out  with  her  Sun- 
day hat  and  dress  on,  and  a  little  satchel  in  her  hand. 

"  Pug,"  she  said,  pleasantly,  "  don't  you  want  to  walk 
round  to  the  express  office  with  me  ?  Moppet,  I  wouldn't 
cry  so.  You  had  better  be  getting  Cissy  some  breakfast." 

Moppet  made  one  rush  and  had  her  arms  arouud 
Queeuie's  neck. 


THE  QUEEN  OF  THE  HOUSEHOLD.        303 

"Oh,  Queenie,  darling,  don't  go  and  leave  us,"  she  cried, 
over  her  sobs.  "We  might  be  kidnapped  and  sold  U 
doctors,  to  be  cut  up  for  our  bones,  —  a  girl  told  me  so  in 
school ;  and  I  don't  know  how  to  get  breakfast,  and  I 
haven't  any  money,  and  I'm  afraid  to  stay  alone,  and  you 
shan't  go  —  " 

"No,  you  shan't ! "  screamed  Cissy,  who  dropped  on  the 
floor  and  caught  her  ankles,  nearly  toppling  her  over. 

"What  makes  you,  Queenie?  Oh,  do  stay,"  pleaded 
Pug,  with  a  quivering  voice. 

"  Children,"  —  and  Queenie  held  herself  up  with  a 
lovely,  yet  gracious,  dignity, —  "children,  I  am  going  be- 
cause you  are  so  naughty  to  aunt  Madeira.  She  is  so 
good  and  kind,  and  I  love  her  so  well  that  I  cannot  see 
her  treated  disrespectfully.  She  only  came  here  for  your 
sakes,  to  take  care  of  you,  your  papa  begged  her  so  hard 
to  do  it.  When  he  comes  home  you  must  tell  him  how 
it  was  —  " 

That  put  a  new  and  more  embarrassing  aspect  upon 
affairs  for  Pug. 

"Oh,  Queenie,"  ask  her  to  stay,"  he  exclaimed.  "Pa 
would  be  so  very  angry." 

"No,"  she  answered,  decisively,  "I  am  not  going  to  ask 
her  to  stay,  for  I  think  she  will  be  much  happier  in  her 
own  quiet  little  home,  with  no  one  to  worry  her,  or  to  be 
ungrateful  for  her  labor,  and  patience,  and  love.  And  I 
belong  to  her,  so  I  cannot  stay." 

"  But  what  are  we  to  do  ?  "  cried  the  chorus  of  voices. 

"  Perhaps  if  you  were  all  to  go  to  her,"  —  and  Queenie 
looked  at  the  group  out  of  her  great,  soft,  brown  eyes,  — 
*v  and  tell  her  you  were  sorry,  for  I  think  you  do  love  her  a 
little,  and  are  really  glad  to  have  her  take  care  of  you." 

"  I'll  go,"  and  Moppet  sprang  to  the  door,  followed  by 
Cissy. 

Pug  stood  irresolute.    Indulgent  as  their  mother  had 


304  LOST  IN  A  GREAT   CITY. 

been  to  these  little  Arabs,  she  seldom  made  an  appeal  to 
their  love  or  duty,  and  never  to  their  principle. 

But  Queenie  was  bent  on  being  master  of  the  situation. 
She  looked  so  brave  and  bewitchingly  lovely  as  she  stood 
there  that  she  might  easily  have  won  a  more  obdurate 
heart  than  the  boy's." 

"  Pug,"  she  said,  softly,  laying  her  fair  hand  on  the 
boy's  shoulder,  "I  think  you  were  really  the  ringleader. 
You  are  older  than  Moppet,  and  we  expect  courage,  and 
honor,  and  manliness  from  you,  because  some  day  you  are 
to  be  a  gentleman.  The  least  you  can  do  is  to  tell  aunt 
Madeira  you  are  sorry,  —  that  is,  if  you  would  like  to  have 
her  stay." 

"  Come  with  me,"  replied  Pug,  in  the  gruff  tone  a  boy 
not  infrequently  uses  when  he  is  moved  by  a  tender  feel- 
ing, and  is  half  ashamed  to  show  it.  So  they  went  to 
aunt  Madeira's  room,  where  Moppet  was  crying  in  her 
arms,  and  Cissy  was  explaining  it  to  the  solemn-looking 
twins,  and  what  happened  no  one  could  quite  have  told, 
but  they  cried  and  kissed  all  round,  and  made  promises; 
and  then  Queenie  asked  Pug  if  he  did  not  want  to  go  out 
with  her,  and  buy  something  for  breakfast,  so  that  they 
could  have  a  regular  feast.  Of  course  he  did.  Aunt  Ma- 
deira went  down  to  the  kitchen  and  made  the  fire.  There 
was  no  school  for  them  that  morning,  and  never  were  a  set 
of  little  prodigals  happier  over  a  fatted  calf.  I  think  they 
would  all  then  and  there  have  consented  to  aunt  Ma- 
deira's  becoming  their  stepmother,  instantly,  if  Queenie 
had  proposed  it. 

However,  it  was  a  substantial  victory  for  aunt  Madeira. 
Pug  and  Moppet  began  to  think  a  little,  and  improved 
under  the  process.  Queenie  they  adored.  Moppet  in- 
sisted that  she  should  be  their  big  sister,  and  be  called 
Queenie  Mullins,  which  was  hardly  a  more  ridiculous  end 
ing  than  in  their  own  case. 

Matters  went  on  very  comfortably  with  them.      Captain 


THE  QUEEN  OP  THE   HOUSEHOLD.  305 

Mullins  was  more  delighted  with  his  home  at  every  trip, 
and  thought  aunt  Madeira  a  paragon  of  management. 
The  children  grew  less  boisterous  and  selfish  in  their  ways, 
and  the  toning  down  of  their  outward  roughness  seemed 
to  have  a  corresponding  effect  upon  their  faces.  They 
would  never  be  lovely,  but  each  countenance  came  to  have 
a  charm  of  its  own,  the  intangible  prettiness  of  refinement 
and  an  atmosphere  of  affection. 

Busy  and  happy  Queenie  certainly  was.  Madame  Felix 
and  her  music  were  the  child's  great  delight.  After  the 
lesson  they  talked,  and  began  a  little  French,  an  Italian 
song  now  and  then,  and  some  studies  that  were  very  bene- 
ficial, if  not  of  the  most  practical  order.  Yet  her  thoughts 
and  aspirations  came  to  have  a  much  wider  range  than  if 
she  had  been  confined  to  a  school  routine. 

And  yet  her  busy  brain  was  occasionally  haunted  by  a 
vision  of  something  different.  A  home  the  like  of  which 
had  not  as  yet  shone  on  her  path,  the  tenderness  of  a 
mother,  the  pride  of  a  father,  gay,  girlish  companionships, 
brightness,  beauty,  and  a  peaceful  gliding  away  of  days  so 
happy,  that  just  to  anticipate  them  lent  a  strange  and 
starry  radiance  to  her  lustrous  eyes,  and  deepened  her 
cheek  with  a  soft  rose-hue. 

And  so  Queenie  came  to  her  fifteenth  birthday.  She 
had  grown  considerably  during  the  year,  and  looked  taller 
than  she  really  was,  with  her  slender,  shapely  figure.  Her 
beautiful  hair  had  grown  again,  and  was  more  abundant 
than  before,  still  preserving  the  wonderful  golden  tints  of 
her  childhood.  She  was  not  unconscious  of  her  beauty, 
though  she  seldom  thought  of  it  save  in  a  glad,  exultant 
way,  just  as  she  rejoiced  in  the  sunshine,  or  any  good  and 
perfect  gift  of  God. 

What  would   the  future  bring  her?    What  work  was 

she  to  do  ?      Something  quite  beyond  this  narrow  round. 

She  laughed  gaily  as  she  went  over  housekeeping  matters 

with  Miss  Madeira,  who  rejoiced  to  save  a  little  here  to 

20 


306  LOST  IN  A  GREAT   CITY. 

meet  the  increased  expenditures  there,  and  whose  whola 
soul  was  in  these  every -day  affairs. 

Thanks  to  her  economy  captain  Mullins  was  out  of  debt, 
and  prosperous.  For  the  first  time  since  the  birth  of  the 
twins  he  felt  himself  a  free  man. 

And  now  a  new  opening  came  to  him,  the  charge  of  a 
trading  vessel  bound  to  Australia  and  the  Indies.  The 
salary  attached  was  higher,  and  there  was  an  opportunity 
of  sharing  the  profits  that  was  not  to  be  lightly  passed  by. 

"  I  should  be  gone  from  one  to  two  years,"  he  explained 
to  Miss  Madeira,  "but  I  think  I  could  be  spared  better 
now  than  at  any  other  time.  The  children  are  still 
small,  and  there  would  not  be  so  much  anxiety  about 
them,  and  between  you  and  Queenie  you  do  manage 
them  beautifully.  Their  poor  mother  —  "  and  the  worthy 
captain  paused,  wondering  in  his  heart  what  made  women 
so  different  —  "she  hadn't  the  health  and  the  nerves,  you 
see,  and  they  were  all  so  little.  It  would  be  a  great  com- 
fort for  her  to  come  back  and  just  see  how  pretty  and 
well-behaved  they  are  —  it  does  one's  very  heart  good. 
So  if  you  don't  mind  too  much,  I'll  take  charge  of  the 
Linlithgow,  and  make  a  little  money,  and  when  Fm  once 
fairly  ahead  in  the  world  I  might  find  some  opening 
that  would  keep  me  at  home  regular  when  the  lads  and 
lasses  were  growing  up  to  be  men  and  women,  and  want- 
ing a  father's  hand." 

After  discussing  the  matter,  with  all  its  pros  and  cons,  it 
did  appear  too  favorable  to  let  slip.  The  owners,  Hard- 
ham,  Jenkins  &  Co.,  East  India  traders,  were  very  much  in 
earnest,  and  finally  the  parties  came  to  a  settlement.  On 
the  first  of  July  he  was  to  start.  Miss  Madeira  was  to 
draw  her  monthly  allowance  from  the  firm,  not  stinting 
herself,  but  being  economical,  as  she  always  was. 

"For  to  tell  the  truth,"  she  said  somewhat  softly  to 
Queenie,  "  it  does  seem  as  if  poor  sister  had  been  rather 
wasteful  in  some  things,  and  she  brought  up  to  save  and 


THE  QUEEN   OP  THE   HOUSEHOLD.  307 

be  careful,  and  having  a  good  deal  of  her  own  to  start  with, 
and  dying  in  debt  as  one  may  say.  I'd  always  had  an  idea 
that  the  captain  hadn't  much  judgment,  but  we  don't  look 
for  men  to  have,  when  their  part  is  to  earn  the  money, 
and  he's  that  easy  tempered,  you  may  see  for  yourself,  and 
one  man  out  of  a  thousand.  And  now  we'll  just  do  our  best 
so  that  he  can  get  a  little  start,  and  it'll  all  come  back  to 
us  fourfold  as  the  Lord  has  promised,  and  far  as  I  can  see, 
though  there  ain't  any  glasses  to  look  into  the  future,  the 
children  are  hearty  and  strong ;  for  to  have  one  of  'em 
dying  on  my  hands  and  he  away  would  about  finish  me." 

But  Queenie  was  to  be  grandly  rewarded  for  her  love 
and  patience.  Two  or  three  days  before  his  departure 
Captain  Mullins  sent  home  a  piano. 

"  You  deserve  it  all,  and  more  too,  and  if  you  wouldn't 
mind  teaching  Moppet  a  bit,  —  the  little  witch  coaxed  this 
out  of  me,  pretending  it  was  for  you,  as  if  I  couldn't  see 
through  it!  And  you  must  not  think  it  exratvagant,  auntie 
Madeira,  though  to  tell  the  truth  I  couldn't  spare  the 
money  to  pay  for  it  out  and  out,  but  the  balance  doesn't 
come  due  till  next  January,  and  then  I'll  be  a  little  fore- 
handed. And  now  you  must  be  as  happy  as  larks  until  I 
get  back." 

The  children  promised  they  would  be  the  very  best  chil- 
dren in  the  world,  and  write  to  pa  as  often  as  there  was 
a  chance.  Queenie  kissed  the  kindly,  weather-beaten  face, 
and  smiled  with  tears  in  her  eyes.  How  good  he  was ! 
Not  quite  the  papa  of  her  dreams,  but  she  loved  him 
nevertheless,  with  all  her  grateful  heart. 

They  felt  very  sad  at  first,  but  childhood  is  too  buoyant 
to  grieve  long  when  the  future  shines  brightly.  And 
there  was  the  wonderful  piano,  on  which  they  all  wanted 
to  play,  even  down  to  the  twins.  Moppet,  as  was  to  be 
expected,  put  on  so  many  airs  and  graces  that  Pug  teased 
her  unmercifully,  and  the  school-girls  laughed  and  quizzed 


308  LOST  IN   A  GREAT  CITY. 

her ;  but  it  most  be  confessed  she  held  her  ground  very 
well. 

Much  trouble  as  they  were,  they  hardly  gave  the  anxi- 
ety that  Tip  did.  He  was  sixteen  now,  a  well-grown, 
passable  lad,  but  he  seemed  to  have  great  trouble  in  getting 
fitted  either  in  a  round  or  a  square  hole  in  this  busy,  bus- 
tling world.  School  he  hated,  always  had  for  that  matter, 
though  he  was  a  smart,  bright  boy,  who  picked  up  bits  of 
experience  that  stood  him  in  stead  of  education.  He  bad 
been  in  sundry  offices  and  stores,  and  there  was  always  a 
plausible  reason  for  a  change. 

His  wages,  which  were  never  very  large,  he  spent  upon 
himself,  principally  in  car-fares,  lunches,  cigars,  and  amuse- 
ments. Auntie  Madeira  had  been  much  shocked  when  she 
first  learned  that  he  smoked,  and  his  father  had  sternly 
forbidden  it,  but  it  merely  made  the  youth  careful  at  home. 
True,  while  his  father  was  in  port  he  behaved  with  con- 
siderable circumspection,  and  though  the  lad  had  not  set 
his  heart  upon  evil,  he  only  wanted  to  "  be  like  the  other 
fellows." 

When  his  father  was  out  of  sight  and  hearing  again  he 
began  to  allow  himself  a  little  more  latitude,  staying  out 
nights  and  going  off  Sundays.  Queenie  used  to  coax,  with 
her  bewitching  assumption  of  womanliness,  and  sometimes 
she  won,  and  would  keep  him  home  listening  to  her  singing 
and  playing,  and  persuading  him  to  invite  in  his  boy 
friends,  though  some  of  them  rather  shocked  her.  But 
she  seemed  to  understand  the  danger  more  readily  than 
Miss  Madeira.  She  had  seen  it,  indeed,  though  she  put 
by  that  strange  and  painful  experience  like  some  terrible 
dream. 

Then  an  incident  occurred  to  divide  her  interest.  The 
nusband  of  Madame  Felix  had  a  stroke  of  paralysis,  which 
left  him  entirely  helpless,  though  his  mind  was  unimpaired. 
A  good-hearted  German  woman  came  in  to  nurse  him,  but 
he  used  to  get  so  weary,  and  it  seemed  just  now  as  if 


THE  QUEEN  OP  THE   HOUSEHOLD.  309 

Madame  was  busier  than  ever.  Queenie  was  always  ready 
to  go  in  and  read,  or  amuse  him,  sometimes  taking  the 
twins,  who  'had  grown  into  quite  cunning  specimens  of 
babyhood,  and  not  the  least  entertaining  was  the  perti- 
nacity with  which  one  always  repeated  the  sayings  of  the 
other.  Polly  generally  made  known  his  ideas  first,  except 
about  meal-time,  when  both  were  equally  urgent. 

But  the  end  came  at  length  one  September  evening,  and 
the  poor  blind  invalid  opened  his  eyes  on  glories  of  which 
we  know  little  indeed,  except  that  we  shall  be  satisfied. 
Pain,  weariness,  and  helplessness  fell  away  like  a  garment, 
and  the  soul  was  clothed  with  its  new  and  glorified  body. 

Poor  Madame  Felix  was  stunned  by  the  blow.  She  had 
watched  and  tended  him  so  long  that  her  wifely  love  had 
become  almost  that  of  a  mother.  Miss  Madeira  was  much 
interested,  and  offered  her  store  of  consolation,  which  was 
tender  and  sweet,  if  quaint,  and  always  reminded  one  of 
old-fashioned  garden  herbs,  with  their  useful  fragrance. 

This  event  brought  a  great  change  to  Queenie.  Hither- 
to Madame  Felix  had  been  her  only  friend  beside  Miss 
Madeira,  and  it  was  a  link  with  an  experience  that  Miss 
Madeira,  with  all  her  kindness,  could  not  understand.  It 
had  been  such  a  pleasure  to  Queenie  to  listen  to  bits  of 
Parisian  life  that  she  could  almost  see,  because  of  her  own 
strange  experiences.  She  had  told  Madame  Felix  about 
Kate. 

"  The  poor  foolish  woman !  "  Madame  had  said.  "  Could 
she  not  have  been  wiser  ?  Paris  is  very  beautiful  and  very 
dangerous,  like  a  siren  to  these  people  who  have  money 
and  not  good  judgment.  And  this  new  husband  will  spend 
all  hers,  and  perhaps  treat  her  badly  and  leave  her,  and 
she  will  go  out  as  companion  or  nurse  or  seamstress,  and 
maybe  come  back  to  America  as  a  lady's  maid  for  her  pas< 
sage.  And  if  she  should  find  you  and  want  you  again,  my 
sweet  child,  do  not  leave  your  good  Miss  Madeira  for  her, 
who  put  you  off"  so  cruelly  when  she  was  rich.  No,  no  J n 


310  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

Queenie  sighed.  Finding  Kate  had  been  one  of  her 
dreams.  True,  that  weak  regard  could  not  compare  with 
Miss  Madeira's  affection. 

But  Madame  Felix  was  to  go  out  of  her  life  almost  as 
entirely.  The  parents  of  two  of  her  pupils  just  growing 
to  womanhood  had  resolved  to  spend  two  or  three  years 
in  Europe,  and  desired  much  that  Madame  Felix  should 
accompany  them  as  a  governess. 

"I  cannot  remain  at  my  rooms,"  said  Madame,  vehe- 
mently. "Everything  speaks  of  my  poor  lost  Auguste, 
and  the  long  nights  are  intolerable.  Then  I  should  like  to 
see  my  own  country,  and  travel  about,  and  the  young  ladies 
are  extremely  amiable.  I  shall  be  very  sorry  to  part  with 
you,  little  Queenie.  You  have  been  like  a  sunbeam,  with 
your  beautiful  golden  head  and  your  radiant  face.  Some 
rich  man  ought  to  adopt  you,  my  darling.  I  shall  look 
about  and  find  a  charming  papa  for  you,  some  grand  old 
musician,  maybe,  who  does  not  care  for  a  wife,  but  would 
like  a  daughter." 

Queenie  smiled  and  sighed.  tt  If  you  could  only  have 
known  my  dear  Dick,"  she  said,  her  eyes  filling  with 
tears. 

So  Madame's  rooms  were  to  let,  and  in  about  a  week  a 
new  tenant  took  them,  who  bought  all  of  the  furniture  that 
Madame  wanted  to  spare. 

"  Quite  a  pretty  young  girl  and  her  grandmother,"  ex- 
plained Madame  Felix.  "  I  thought  she  was  musical,  as 
she  had  a  piano,  but  I  believe  she  is  connected  with  the 
stage." 

Queenie's  heart  gave  a  great  bound.  When  Tip  talked 
of  this  and  that  actress,  or  singer  or  dancer,  her  pulses 
would  always  start  and  quiver,  and  sometimes  there  would 
come  an  irrepressible  longing  to  see  that  mimic  world 
again. 

Madame  Felix  said  good-by  to  them  with  tears  in  he/ 


THE  QUEEN  OP  THE  HOUSEHOLD.        3H 

soft  eyes.  They  had  made  her  very  happy,  and  she  should 
not  forget  them.  Queenie  must  be  sure  to  answer  the  let- 
ters she  would  write,  and  some  day  the  child  might  visit 
her  in  beautiful  Paris.  And  so  passed  out  another  friend, 
leaving  Queenie  very  lonesome. 


$12  LOST  IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 


CHAPTER  XXVL 

MISFORTUNES. 

MADAMS  FELIX  went  away  the  last  of  October,  and  for 
a  month  Queenie  was  very  busy  helping  with  the  fall  sew- 
ing. Miss  Madeira  might  be  an  old  maid,  but  few  mothers 
could  plan  and  execute  so  comfortably,  or  with  such  skill, 
and  with  less  absolute  worry.  Dresses  were  marvellously 
lengthened  or  turned,  or  furbished  up  anew.  Patching 
trousers  and  darning  stockings  became  a  fine  art,  and  Tip 
supposed  those  natty  jackets  came  straight  from  the 
tailors. 

Early  in  December  Miss  Madeira  took  a  severe  cold,  and 
had  an  attack  of  pleurisy.  She  made  a  great  effort  to  get 
about  at  Christmas,  and  have  a  nice  gala  dinner  for  the 
children,  but  she  was  worse  afterward,  with  a  run  of  low 
nervous  fever,  that  kept  her  very  weak,  and  made  her  now 
and  then  rather  flighty.  Then  Moppet  must  needs  get 
pushed  down,  one  slippery  day,  at  school,  and  break  her 
arm. 

If  the  bad  luck  had  stopped  there!  But  just  then  it 
came  in  a  pelting  shower.  Queenie  had  been  so  busy  that 
it  was  the  middle  of  January  before  she  could  go  down  to 
Hardham  &  Co.  for  their  monthly  allowance. 

"It  is  quite  impossible  to  let  you  have  any  money  to- 
day," said  Mr.  Jennings.  "We  have  had  some  heavy  losses, 
and  hardly  know  what  to  do  ourselves.  Come  down  again 
in  a  week  or  ten  days." 

Queenie  went  home  rather  dismayed.  The  rent  was  due, 
there  was  very  little  money  in  the  house,  and  how  could 
ehe  stretch  it  over  ten  days?  True,  the  grocer  and  the 


MISFORTUNES.  313 

butcher  might  trust  for  a  while ;  —  they  had  coal  and  flour, 
and  that  was  some  comfort. 

"  You  must  not  worry  Miss  Madeira  about  anything,** 
the  doctor  said.  "  Such  a  complete  state  of  mental  and 
nervous  prostration  rarely  occurs,  and  unless  she  is  kept 
quiet  and  cheerful  I  can  hardly  answer  for  the  result." 

"  Oh,  you  don't  think  she  will  die  ?  "  cried  Queenie,  in 
sudden  terror. 

"  Well,  I  hardly  think  that.  If  it  was  pleasant  weather 
I  should  send  her  to  the  sea-side ;  indeed,  a  change  would 
be  the  very  best  thing  for  her.  Keep  the  children  quiet, 
and,  as  I  said,  do  not  trouble  her  with  the  details  of  house- 
hold affairs." 

Poor  Queenie !  She  was  well,  and  in  spite  of  her  slen- 
derness  and  delicate,  high-bred  air,  she  had  a  fund  of 
strength,  but  all  this  was  enough  to  dismay  the  stoutest 
heart.  To  whom  could  she  go  for  counsel?  And  here 
were  a  troop  of  hungry,  noisy  children. 

"  But  they  are  so  much  better  than  they  used  to  be,"  she 
mused,  "  and  Moppet  really  is  quite  a  thoughtful  little  lady  ; 
but  there  is  her  broken  arm,  which  does  not  improve  one'a 
temper,  and  if  there  was  only  plenty  of  money  —  " 

"Me  darlint,"  said  Peggy  O'Brian,  the  good-hearted 
washerwoman,  "  don't  you  begin  to  worry  now,  jest.  I've 
been  through  a-many  tight  time,  whin  I  couldn't  see  bite 
nor  sup  for  the  next  day,  but  praised  be  the  saints,  they 
made  an  openin'  in  the  darkest  cloud.  'An  one  time,  whin 
I  had  three  helpless  little  babies,  as  one  may  say,  me  poor 
Pat  was  brought  home,  scalded  so  the  flesh  dropped  off  of 
him,  and  lay  for  weeks  and  weeks.  An'  all  his  long  sick- 
ness at  the  last  —  but  whirra !  I'm  an  old  fool  to  try  to 
brighten  you  with  dead-and-gone  troubles.  Now  look  here, 
jest,  I'm  a  little  easy  now,  the  two  boys  bein'  in  good 
places,  thank  the  Lord,  and  me  keepin'  the  won  room  with 
a  handful  of  fire  at  night,  but  if  ye'd  say  the  word  I'd  come 
and  stay  here  beside  lookin'  after  the  waslun'  and  ironin', 


314  LOST  IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 

and  not  a  cent  to  pay  till  such  time  as  you're  forehanded 
agen ! " 

"  Oh,  how  good  you  are ! "  and  Queenie  seized  her 
hand,  pressing  it  between  her  dainty  palms. 

"  There's  Monday  at  Mrs.  Gales  til'  four,  an'  Tuesday 
half  a  day,  an'  Wednesday  here,  an'  the  sweepin'  at  Mrs. 
Carter's  on  Friday.  That's  the  big  boardin'-house,  an'  it 
takes  all  day,  jest.  But  there's  nights  and  mornin's,  and 
you  ought'nt  be  alone,  ye  swate  pretty  darlint." 

"  If  you  only  will  come.  It  is  so  hard  to  see  to  every- 
thing." 

"  Sure  I'd  run  me  feet  off  for  you  and  Miss  Madeiry, 
an'  she's  wasted  away  to  a  skeleton,  jest.  A  better-hearted 
woman  never  lived,  so  me  darlint,  beauty's  not  everything 
m  this  world,  though  it's  swate  enough  to  look  at  whin 
it's  such  as  you,  with  beauty  for  a  dozen.  An'  now  I'll 
come  in  the  night,  and  all  the  time  when  I'm  not  busy." 

The  kind  offer  lifted  a  load  off  of  Queenie's  shoulders, 
for  Peggy  was  a  great  favorite  with  the  babies.  But  when 
she  went  for  the  money  she  was  put  off  again,  and  Peggy 
insisted  upon  her  taking  ten  dollars  of  her  savings  to  tide 
her  over. 

The  doctor  finally  decided  that  Miss  Madeira  must  go 
nway. 

"  She  needs  something  to  rouse  her,  to  change  the  cur- 
rent of  her  thoughts.  Wouldn't  some  friend  in  her  native 
town  take  her  for  a  while  ?  "  he  asked. 

Queenie  wrote  to  Mrs.  Wardlow,  who  said,  in  reply, 
"Send  her  immediately." 

"  I  must  make  one  more  effort,"  declared  Queenie,  and 
again  went  down  to  the  shipping-house. 

Alas!  The  news  was  doubly  bad.  Hardham  &  Co. 
had  stopped  payment,  and  there  was  a  report  that  the  Lin- 
lithgow  had  been  lost  at  sea.  She  went  home  stunned  and 
incredulous. 

**  It  will  never  do  to  tell  her,"  said  Queenie,  to  faithful 


MISFORTUNES.  3tt 

Peggy.  "And  it  may  not  be  quite  so  bad.  Oh,  what 
would  become  of  the  poor  children !  And  they  are  all 
improving  so,  and  growing  quite  pretty.  Miss  Madeira 
meant  to  have  them  so  nice  when  their  poor  father  came 
back ; "  and  Queenie  finished  in  a  flood  of  tears. 

"  There,  me  darlint,  don't  go  out  over  the  say  to  meet 
trouble.  I've  known  people  to  come  home  after  seven  year, 
and  everybody  belay vin'  'em  dead,  but  whirra !  it's  bad 
about  the  money,  jest." 

Then  Queenie  took  Tip  into  confidence.  He  had  not 
been  doing  very  well  through  the  winter,  and  business  was 
dull  now. 

"And  I've  borrowed  of  all  the  fellows  I  know,"  con- 
fessed Tip,  ruefully.  "  I  meant  to  beg  a  little  out  of  aunt 
Madeira  —  I  say,  Queenie,  she  has  quite  a  pile  of  her 
own,  hasn't  she?  She's  never  had  anything  to  do  but  just 
save  up  her  money." 

M Oh,  Tip!  I'm  ashamed  of  you!"  cried  Qneenie,  in- 
dignantly. "  Why,  when  your  mother  was  alive,  Miss  Ma- 
deira used  to  be  sending  little  gifts,  and  she  worked  almost 
every  day  of  her  life  at  dress-making.  And  she  hasn't 
much  beside  the  house.  Then  she  would  not  take  any  of 
the  wages  your  father  offered  her,  because  she  wanted  to 
help  him." 

"  Well,  if  I  had  it  I'd  do  anything.  But  five  dollars  a 
week  is  such  a  beggarly  salary,  and  I  don't  see  as  I  can 
help.  But  you  don't  believe  that  about  father,  Queen- 
ie ?  It  can't  be  true." 

"  Oh,  I  hope  not !  I  pray  not ! "  returned  Queenie,  with 
quivering  lip.  "  For  I  don't  see  how  Miss  Madeira  could 
take  care  of  everybody,  even  if  she  should  get  well.  You 
see  she  has  worked  very  hard.  Oh,  Tip,  you  never  can 
know !  I  want  you  to  be  good,  and  noble,  and  unselfish, 
for  if  part  of  this  burden  comes  upon  you  —  " 

Tip  hung  his  head.  He  was  just  a  careless,  selfish  boy, 
iitent  upon  his  own  gratification,  and  feeling  that  the  world 


316  LOST  IN  A   GREAT  CITY. 

used  him  rather  hardly,  in  that  it  did  not  pour  a  golden 
shower  at  his  feet.  But  to  be  asked  to  do  something  for 
others,  —  why,  how  could  he  ? 

They  packed  off  Miss  Madeira.  Queenie  went  with  her  to 
her  journey's  end,  where  Mrs.  Wardlow  met  her,  and  then 
turned  straight  about  for  home.  It  was  quite  in  the  even- 
ing when  the  train  returned,  but  Tip  was  watching  for  her, 
and  took  her  on  his  arm  with  a  sense  of  manliness  and 
protection.  How  stylish  and  pretty  she  was !  And,  after 
all,  she  wasn't  a  fellow's  sister,  really. 

The  children  were  in  bed,  and  Peggy  was  sitting  there 
with  a  bright  smile  of  welcome. 

"An'  how  did  you  lave  the  poor  dear?" 

"  Oh,  Peggy  ! "  Queenie  stopped  to  wipe  away  a  tear. 
"  She  didn't  know  Mrs.  Wardlow  at  first.  She  seems  quite 
like  a  little  child,  doesn't  she,  dear  Miss  Madeira !  It  broke 
my  heart  to  leave  her,  and,  oh,  if  it  should  be  some  disease 
of  the  brain,  as  the  doctor  feared ! " 

"  There,  me  purty  pink,  don't  worry  another  stitch  to- 
night. I've  a  nice  cup  of  tay  for  you,  and  we'll  lave  dear 
Miss  Madeira  in  the  hands  of  the  good  Lord  and  his  blessed 
mother.  You  don't  belave  in  the  Virgin,  I  know  ;  but  she 
seemed  so  near  to  us,  and  when  you  haven't  a  mother  or 
a  sister,  or  mayhap  no  womenkind  of  your  own,  she's  dear 
and  precious.  And  we  won't  say  another  word  until  we 
hear ;  and  may  the  saints  send  us  good  tidings." 

Queenie  echoed  it  in  her  heart,  but  she  could  not  trust 
her  pale,  quivering  lips. 

In  a  few  days  the  fate  of  the  "  Linlithgow "  was  settled 
beyond  any  question.  She  had  been  caught  in  a  ter- 
rible storm,  and  gone  to  pieces.  Three  of  the  sailors  had 
been  picked  up,  and  they  reported  the  rest  as  certainly 
lost. 

And  now  what  was  Queenie  to  do,  placed  so  suddenly 
in  a  position  of  such  grave  responsibility?  There  was  a 
small  insurance  on  the  captain's  life,  but  that  would  not 


MISFORTUNES.  317 

be  available  for  some  time  to  come.  And  then  they  were 
terribly  in  debt.  The  grocer  had  sent  in  his  bill,  the  land- 
lord had  come  to  see  if  they  wanted  the  house  for  another 
year.  If  Miss  Madeira  recovered,  her  fertile  brain  would 
find  some  way  out  of  the  difficulty ;  but  if  she  did  not  she 
would  need  her  own  scanty  means ;  and  in  any  event  she 
must  not  be  troubled  for  the  present. 

"  Me  darlint,"  said  Peggy,  "  I  have  fifty  dollars  in  the 
bank,  that  I've  laid  up  to  bury  me  with ;  but  please  the 
Lord  I  mayn't  die  just  yet,  an'  sure  I'm  in  no  hurry,"  with 
a  merry  twinkle  in  her  blue  eye ;  "  an'  ye  shall  have  that, 
an'  we'll  live  like  princes  a  while  longer.  There's  a  turn 
in  most  every  gale,  my  dear,  and  a  summer  after  the  win- 
ter, so  don't  break  your  sweet,  lovin'  heart." 

"Oh,  Peggy,  how  can  I  thank  you!  It  doesn't  seem 
right  to  take  it,  but  I  cannot  look  on  and  see  the  children 
starve !  How  odd,"  she  continued,  with  a  half  smile ; 
"  they  are  no  kin  to  you  or  me,  and  yet  we  are  doing  our 
best  for  them." 

"An'  the  Lord '11  reward  us  by  and  by.  He  never  for- 
gets, Miss  Queenie,"  cried  the  warm-hearted  creature. 

It  was  almost  like  taking  heart's  blood  to  pay  debts 
with,  the  young  girl  thought,  but  there  was  nothing  else 
possible.  The  grocer  and  butcher  were  quieted,  and  will- 
ing to  trust  a  while  longer.  But  there  was  the  rent,  and 
what  should  they  do  if  they  had  to  move  ? 

Queenie  went  to  the  landlord,  one  day,  and  told  him  the 
sad  story. 

"  If  we  could  only  be  sure  of  staying  until  we  know 
positively,"  she  said  in  a  soft,  pathetic  tone.  "  If  Miss 
Madeira  should  recover  it  will  all  be  right,  for  she  is  so 
very  honest  and  upright.  And  I  do  not  think  you  woulcj 
lose  the  money  in  the  end ;  indeed,  I  am  quite  sure  we 
would  all  make  a  great  effort  to  pay  you." 

Mr.  Topham  was  not  an  obdurate  fiend.  He  was  more 
moved  by  the  girl's  story  than  he  would  have  been  quite 


318  LOST   IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 

willing  to  show,  and  her  heroic  courage,  her  brave  unself- 
ishness, touched  him. 

"  There,"  he  said,  with  a  wave  of  his  hand,  as  her  beau- 
tiful, limpid  eyes  swam  in  tears, — "there,  my  good  girl,  do 
not  distress  yourself.  You  shall  remain  in  the  house,  with- 
out a  question,  until  next  July ;  and  if  by  that  time  your 
misfortunes  prove  to  be  of  the  saddest  order,  the  six 
months'  rent  will  not  beggar  me.  Do  the  best  you  can, 
and  I  truly  hope,  for  the  sake  of  his  little  family,  that 
Captain  Mullins  is  not  really  lost." 

Her  gratitude  was  so  touching  that  he  took  a  few  turns 
up  and  down  his  rather  dingy  office,  after  she  was  gone, 
and  marvelled  a  little  at  her  beauty  and  earnestness  of 
purpose. 

"The  man  who  could  be  sharp  with  her  must  be  a 
brute!"  he  declared,  with  energy.  "Well,  I  shall  not  be 
sorry  to  have  done  that  much  for  her." 

But  the  dear  piano  had  to  go.  There  seemed,  indeed, 
so  small  a  probability  of  ever  paying  the  balance  that 
Queenie  had  not  the  heart  to  temporize.  They  would  be 
allowed  six  months  in  which  to  redeem  it,  and  if  not  done 
then  half  the  purchase  money  would  be  refunded. 

Queenie  waited  breathlessly  to  hear  from  Mrs.  Wardlow. 
The  first  brief  note  said  Miss  Madeira  was  very  weak  and 
poorly,  the  second  that  she  knew  them,  and  now  a  third 
stating  that  her  appetite  had  begun  to  improve,  and  she 
had  shown  herself  greatly  delighted  to  see  some  old  friends. 
"  Oddly  enough,"  wrote  Mrs.  Wardlow,  "  though  she  frets 
now  and  then  for  Queenie,  she  seems  to  have  forgotten  the 
children,  and  it  is  quite  as  well  for  the  present." 

It  was  now  early  in  March.  The  experience  of  the  last 
three  months  seemed  to  have  made  Queenie  a  woman  in 
soul,  though  her  face  still  wore  the  enchanting  radiance  of 
•jhildhood.  Sometimes,  at  night,  when  she  laid  her  tired 
,,ead  upon  the  pillow,  the  bitter  tears  would  force  their 
W&y  outj  but  all  day  she  was  so  busy,  so  full  of  per- 


•    MISFORTUNES.  319 

plexity,  that  she  could  hardly  think  of  the  heavy  burden 
she  was  bearing. 

And  now  a  cruel  fact  stared  her  in  the  face.  After  all 
it  was  not  so  strange  a  matter  to  starve  in  a  land  of  plenty. 
She  saw  the  torturing  possibility.  Could  they  beg?  Doubt- 
less there  were  some  kind-hearted  people  in  the  world,  but 
she  had  no  friend  besides  Peggy,  who  was  straining  every 
nerve,  and  who  kept  up  a  cheerful  front.  Oh,  what  could 
she  do  ?  Must  she  stand  by  helpless,  when,  if  they  could 
be  tided  over  — 

Was  it  a  temptation  or  an  inspiration  ?  Did  she  have 
the  power  to  save  them  ? 

The  thought  crept  slowly  over  her  mind,  almost  terrify- 
ing her.  She  could  go  back  to  the  stage.  Surely  she  had 
not  forgotten  all  the  old  devices  that  had  so  enchanted  the 
multitude.  Perhaps  they  would  be  improper  and  absurd 
now,  but  there  was  the  dancing.  A  new  furor  had  broken 
out  in  ballet-dancing.  A  grand  scenic  play  was  bewitch- 
ing theatre-goers  even  now.  What  if  she  — 

But  she  shrank  and  trembled  at  the  thought.  Dear 
Miss  Madeira  would  be  shocked. 

She  went  down-stairs  the  next  morning,  and  gave  the 
children  their  breakfast  of  bread  and  coffee.  Peggy  had 
gone  to  her  weekly  sweeping,  and  there  would  not  be  a 
penny  in  the  house  until  she  came  home  that  evening. 
What  were  they  to  do  for  dinner  ?  And  there  lay  unpaid 
bills. 

"  Queenie,"  said  Moppet,  "  look  at  my  shoes,  and  these 
are  my  Sunday  ones,  too.  I  get  my  feet  wet  every  day. 
And  my  rubbers  are  worse  than  nothing.  It  looks  as  if  it 
might  rain." 

"  Perhaps  you  had  better  not  go  to  school  to-day,"  said 
the  sweet,  grave,  yet  troubled  voice. 

"  But  I  want  to.  It  was  so  stupid  staying  at  home 
When  my  arm  was  broken.  And  there's  such  a  funny  girl 


320  LOST   IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 

in  my  class,  —  Lu  Walker.  Can't  I  have  some  new  shoes, 
Queenie  ?" 

"  My  darling,  when  we  have  a  little  money." 

"  But  if  pa  shouldn't  ever  come  back,  and  if  auntie 
Madeira  shouldn't  ever  get  well." 

It  seemed  to  Queenie  as  if  she  must  cry  out  in  despair. 

"I  had  better  take  my  lunch  to  school,"  went  on  Mop- 
pet, "then  I  won't  have  an  extra  journey  through  the  rain. 
Where  is  the  bread,  Queenie  ?  And  isn't  there  any  cake  ? 
Won't  you  please  give  me  a  penny  ?  " 

"  My  darling,  we  have  neither  pennies  nor  bread ; "  and 
Queenie  clasped  her  arms  around  the  little  girl's  neck, 
while  the  tears  fell  on  her  bright  auburn  hair. 

"  Was  that  why  you  didn't  eat  any  breakfast  ?  "  asked 
Cissy  in  an  awe-stricken  voice. 

w  Oh  Queenie !  will  we  have  to  starve  like  those  little 
children  in  Price's  alley  ?  " 

Then  Queenie  rose,  while  the  group  of  children  huddled 
around  her  like  a  terror-stricken  flock  of  sheep.  So  beau- 
tiful was  she  in  her  youthful  desperation  that,  as  she 
stood  there,  she  would  have  been  a  magnificent  study  for  a 
painter. 

"  No,  my  darlings,"  she  said,  and  her  voice  was  clear  and 
untrembling  now,  "  I  don't  mean  that  you  shall  starve. 
God  will  give  me  strength  to  save  you,  I  know.  If  you 
will  all  be  brave  to-day,  to-night  we  shall  have  some 
supper." 

If  she  had  hesitated  before,  if  misgivings  had  risen  up 
mountain -high,  if,  indeed,  her  own  aversion  to  stage-life  as 
she  had  experienced  it  last  of  all,  at  the  dirty,  common-place 
Odeon,  filled  her  with  a  shrinking  terror  and  disgust,  she 
put  it  all  away  now.  This  seemed  the  only  available  step. 

There  were,  no  doubt,  many  people  in  the  world  who 
would  stretch  out  a  kindly  hand  to  save  them  from  starv- 
ing. But  how  was  she  to  get  at  them  ?  Could  she  go 
around  asking  charity  ?  Every  one  had  been  generous  so 


MISFORTUNES.  32 1 

far,  but  there  were  so  many  of  them,  and  once  being  fed 
would  not  last  forever.  Mr.  Topham  was  to  wait  for  the 
rent,  and  there  were  other  accounts.  But  the  grocer  had 
said  "It  really  was  impossible  to  go  on  trusting  them.  He 
wouldn't  distress  them  until  Miss  Madeira  was  better,  or 
there  was  some  direct  word  about  the  captain.  But  in 
common  justice  to  himself  it  would  not  do  to  get  all  his 
capital  embarrassed,  for  he  had  hundreds  and  hundreds  of 
dollars  trusted  out  now  where  he  didn't  suppose  he'd  ever 
get  a  cent." 

She  kissed  Pug  and  Moppet  as  they  started  for  school  in 
a  quiet,  awe-stricken  way,  tidied  the  house,  washed  the 
babies,  and  brought  out  their  box  of  playthings,  and  asked 
Cissy  if  she  would  be  very  good  and  take  care  of  them 
while  she  went  out  of  an  errand. 

Then  Queenie  ran  up-stairs,  and  brushed  out  her  shining 
hair,  smiling  with  tears  in  her  eyes,  for  at  the  last  she  could 
sell  that ;  and  there  was  her  pretty  ring,  and  the  children's 
necklaces.  No,  they  would  not  starve  just  yet.  Why,  she 
might  pawn  some  of  these  things ;  she  would  talk  to  dear, 
faithful  Peggy  about  it  this  very  night.  But  the  other 
effort  must  be  made  first.  A  little  money  could  be  spent 
so  quickly,  as  she  well  knew. 

Which  was  her  prettiest  dress?  Was  it  worth  while  to 
look  her  best,  or  would  that  bright,  gay  girl  be  jealous  of 
her  as  the  young  ladies  at  the  Odeon  had  been? 

She  had  watched  the  new  tenants  in  the  rooms  of  Mad- 
ame Felix  with  a  peculiar  interest,  the  slight  undercur- 
rent of  association  that  no  one  else  could  understand,  and 
that  she  could  not  have  confessed  even  to  her  dear  Miss 
Madeira.  A  nice-looking,  wrinkled  old  person,  that  some- 
how made  you  think  of  a  huckster's  stand  of  fresh  vege- 
tables and  snowy  eggs,  with  its  attendant  market-woman. 
She  went  out  to  the  store  with  a  clean  willow  basket,  and 
in  a  plain,  gray  dress  and  black  apron,  and  now  and  then 
of  a  Sunday  morning  to  church.  The  young  lady  waa 
21 


322  LOST   IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 

piquant  rather  than  pretty,  medium  size,  plump,  with 
bright  black  eyes  and  black  hair,  and  smiling  cherry  lips. 
Her  attire  was  very  jaunty,  with  coquettish  hats,  stylish 
jackets,  and  dresses  on  the  very  verge  of  loudness ;  but  by 
some  happy  miracle  escaping  it.  She  often  went  out  about 
ten  in  the  morning ;  that  was  for  her  practice ;  and  occa- 
sionally some  one  took  her  to  drive  of  a  bright  afternoon. 
For  the  rest  —  people  iu  a  great  city  know  little  about 
their  neighbors. 

Queenie  came  down  in  hat  and  shawl,  and  kissed  the 
twins,  promising  Cissy  not  to  stay  long.  Her  heart  beat 
rapidly,  and  her  cheeks  were  flushed,  —  they  had  been 
rather  pale  of  late.  The  morning  was  cloudy  and  gray, 
and  she  seemed  in  brilliant  contrast  with  it. 

Only  a  step  —  she  did  not  need  to  ring  the  bell,  for  it 
was  on  the  right  hand,  second  floor.  Up  to  the  door,  and 
then  a  modest  little  tap. 

The  young  lady  herself  opened  it.  Queenie  started  and 
stood  half  frightened.  What  should  she  say? 

"  Well,  who  do  you  want,  or  what  ?  "  and  with  a  careless, 
good-natured  smile  the  young  lady  showed  her  white,  even 
teeth.  She  was  not  very  formidable,  yet  Queenie  blushed 
and  stammered  — 

"  I  wanted  to  see  —  you." 

"Oh,  well,  walk  in.  Why  —  "in  a  tone  of  astonish- 
ment  —  "  are  n't  you  the  little  girl  who  lives  in  that  dingy, 
brown  house  where  there  are  so  many  children,  and  the 
boy  that's  called  Pug;  and  aren't  there  twin  babies  — 
those  you  take  out  walking  ?  and  your  name  is  Mullins  ?  " 

"No,"  returned  Queenie,  with  a  bright  flush ;  "  my  name 
is  Barretti,"  and  she  hesitated  a  little.  "  I  am  not  —  that 
is  we  are  not  real  relation,  though  their  aunt,  Miss  Madeira, 
adopted  me ;  that  was  before  Mrs.  Mullins  died,  and  she 
came  to  the  city,"  was  the  rather  incoherent  statement. 

"  Oh,  sit  down,  will  you  ?  This  is  Mrs.  Keep,  —  gran- 
ny,  as  I  call  her ;  for  like  your  Miss  Madeira  she  isn't  my 


MISFORTUNES.  323 

own  grandmother,  though  she  is  just  as  good ;  are  you  not, 
Gran  ?  I  haven't  a  relation  in  the  world  that  I  know  of. 
Gran  took  care  of  my  mother  when  she  died ;  that  was 
four  years  ago.  Do  you  know,  I  am  real  glad  you  came  in. 
I've  often  looked  at  you  out  of  the  window,  and  wished  I 
knew  you ;  but  isn't  that  thin,  queer  old  woman  a  regular 
dragon  ?  What's  become  of  her?" 

"  Miss  Madeira  ?  Oh,  she's  just  the  dearest  and  sweetest 
—  you  have  no  idea  how  good  she  is,"  was  Queenie's  en- 
thusiastic rejoinder. 

"I  wouldn't  have  believed  it,  to  be  sure;"  and  the 
young  lady  laughed  doubtfully. 

"  I  am  glad  you  wanted  to  see  me,"  said  Queenie,  taking 
courage.  "  I  wanted  to  come  and  ask  you  —  I  am  in  so 
much  trouble  — "  and  the  child's  voice  faltered,  while  the 
tears  flooded  her  soft,  dark  eyes. 

"  My  dear  little  chicken !  Why,  this  is  real  romantic. 
Do  lay  off  your  hrt  and  shawl.  Ob,  what  magnificent  hairl 
There !  I  am  going  to  put  you  in  this  arm-chair,  and  draW 
you  up  to  the  grate,  and  we'll  talk  —  oh,  what  are  you  cry 
ing  so  for  ?  " 


324  LOST  IN  A  GREAT   CITY. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

A  NEW  FEIEND    AND   A   TRUE   FRIEND. 

QUEENIE  had  nerved  herself  for  coldness,  sharp,  curt 
questioning,  and  the  peculiar  jealousy  that  so  often  occurs 
between  two  in  the  same  profession.  Her  nerves  had  been 
taxed  to  their  utmost  capacity  for  weeks,  and  latterly  she 
had  been  living  on  the  lowest  modicum  of  food,  this  morn- 
ing gone  altogether  without  her  breakfast.  Her  reception 
was  so  different  that  the  friendliness  quite  overcame  her, 
and  before  she  knew  it  she  was  sobbing  on  the  other's 
shoulder. 

"  Oh,  don't  cry  so,  my  dear,  don't !  Why,  you  are  real 
hysterical !  And  you're  all  of  a  tremble  !  What  has  hap- 
pened to  you  ?  You  have  not  been  turned  out  of  doors  by 
that  sharp-nosed  dragon,  have  you  ?  No  use  to  tell  me 
she's  sweet  and  good ;  I  haven't  lived  nineteen  years  in  the 
world  for  nothing,  and  have  cut  my  eye  teeth ;  I  know  a 
thing  or  two.  You  shall  stay  here,  and  we  will  see.  I  rather 
enjoy  fights,  and  generally  come  off  first  best,  I  can  tell  you. 
Oh,  my  sweet,  pretty  little  thing !  Here,  drink  this  glass 
of  wine.  It's  as  simple  as  water." 

Queenie  drank  it,  and  smiled  through  her  tears ;  then, 
obeying  a  sudden  impulse,  kissed  the  friendly  face  bent 
upon  her  with  so  much  interest. 

"It  isn't  that ;  she  is  good,  but  she  is  sick,  and  has  gone 
away,  and  Captain  Mullins  is  lost  at  sea,  —  at  least,  that's 
the  news,  —  and  the  firm  his  money  was  with  has  failed, 
and  we  are  almost  —  starving.  And  I  came  to  see  —  " 

«*  My  dear,  you  have  come  to  a  bad  place,  with  a  ven- 


A  NEW   FRIEND   AND   A  TRUE  FRIEND.  325 

geance !  I  could  help  you  a  little,  but  I  live  up  pretty 
close,  don't  I  Gran  ?  "  and  she  laughed  gayly. 

"  It  isn't  that,  altogether,"  Queenie  interrupted,  flushing 
scarlet.  •"  It  was  to  see  if  you  couldn't  help  me,  or  tell  me 
how  to  do  something  —  stage-dancing.  I  used  to  dance  — 
on  a  tight-rope." 

"  You  ! "  and  the  other  stood  off  a  little  to  look  at  her. 
"Well,  now,  if  this  isn't  funny!  And  you  are  right  in  the 
profession !  Now  tell  me  all  about  it.  When  did  you  be- 
gin, and  where  were  you  ?  " 

"  May  I  tell  you  all  ?  "  Queenie  asked,  timidly.  "  It  is  a 
long  story." 

"  Oh,  I'm  just  wild  about  romances  and  experiences.  I 
don't  like  to  read,  but  I  could  sit  all  day  and  hear  any  one 
talk;  and  people  do  have  such  queer  stories  and  adven- 
tures, —  especially  in  the  profession.  So  begin  ; "  and  she 
knelt  playfully  before  her. 

Queenie  wiped  away  the  traces  of  tears.  The  wine  had 
given  her  new  strength  and  courage. 

The  commencement  attracted  her  hearer's  attention  at 
once,  —  "I  was  lost  when  I  was  a  very  little  girl,"  —  and 
held  her  spellbound,  though  she  could  not  forbear  sundry 
interruptions  and  questions.  Gran,  too,  sat  down  in  the 
circle  and  listened. 

"  Well,  if  this  isn't  the  strangest  thing !  I've  heard  of 
Queen  Titania,  too,  I'm  sure  ;  but  land  alive  !  I  hear  of  so 
many  things  and  people !  I've  always  been  on  the  stage, 
and  my  mother  was  there  before  me.  Gran  took  care  of  her 
in  her  last  sickness,  and  then  we  went  on  living  together ; 
it's  more  respectable,  ain't  it  Gran  ?  But  I  keep  pretty 
straight,  though  I  do  like  a  good  flirtation ;  and  when 
there's  a  chance  I  shall  marry,  but  none  of  your  stage  gen- 
tlemen for  me !  I've  heard  about  that  Chippenham,  and 
he's  a  half-baked  poet  and  genius,  just  one  of  the  men  who 
never  do  anything  but  swindle,  their  whole  lives  through. 
Wasn't  the  woman  a  fool !  My  dear,  if  I  had  a  fortune  I 


326  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

wouldn't  marry  the  best  man  that  walks.  I'd  flirt  right 
and  left,  for,  after  all,  none  of  'em  are  true  to  you,  and  if 
they  were  I'd  get  awful  tired.  But  as  I  haven't  the  for- 
tune, when  some  nice,  solid  party  gets  spooney  about  me, 
I  shall  bring  him  to  the  point,  and  hook  him  while  he's  in 
the  humor,  and  then  he  can  repent  at  his  leisure.  And  so 
you  want  to  go  on  the  stage,  and  I  guess  it  is  about  the 
best  thing  you  can  do.  But  land  alive !  you  don't  mean 
to  take  charge  of  that  whole  raft  of  young  ones  1  Why, 
you  are  crazy ! " 

"Miss  Madeira  has  been  so  good  to  me!  And  I  like 
them  all  —  and  I  have  no  one  —  " 

"  You  sweet  little  angel  1 "  and  the  vivacious  hostess 
kissed  her  rapturously. 

"  Then  Miss  Madeira  will  get  well  if  there  is  not  too  much 
bother  and  trouble  ;  and  if  Captain  Mullins  is  lost,  there  is 
a  life-insurance  j  but  it  is  just  now  that  we  need  money, 
and  if  I  could  help  —  " 

How  wistful  and  earnest  the  limpid,  brown  eyes  were ! 
The  whole  face  was  alive  with  that  peculiar  bright  hope, 
and  seemed  enchantingly  beautiful. 

"  Well,  I  don't  see  why  you  shouldn't  make  a  furor,  if  it 
was  properly  managed ;  but  you  don't  ask  me  what  I'm 
doing." 

"  Are  you  dancing  or  playing  ?  " 

"  A  little  of  both,  my  dear.  I  shall  shock  you,  no  doubt ; 
but  I'm  in  that  wonderful  spectacular  play, '  The  Enchanted 
Princess.'  Everybody  thinks  it  dreadful,  and  yet  the  whole 
world  rush  to  see  it,  as  if  they  had  lost  their  wits.  The  play 
isn't  much,  but  the  transformations  are  just  superb,  and 
there  are  no  words  to  describe  the  dancing.  I  get  be- 
witched about  it  myself.  I'm  in  the  dance  of  the  fairies 
on  the  lake,  and  the  house  is  so  still  you  can  almost  hear 
a  pin  drop.  Such  bouquets !  such  lovely  little  suppers,  and 
everybody  going  wild  about  you !  I  don't  believe  there 
ever  were  so  many  pretty  girls  in  one  play  before.  And 


A  NEW  FRIEND  AND  A  TRUE  FRIEND.      327 

several  of  them  have  had  bona  fide  offers  of  marriage.  I 
like  the  life,  the  fun  and  excitement.  But  you  are  very 
young." 

The  clock  struck  twelve  at  that  moment,  and  Queenie 
sprang  up. 

"  Oh,"  she  cried,  "  I  must  go !  I  left  Cissy  with  the  ba- 
bies, and  I  didn't  think  to  stay  —  " 

"And  I  haven't  said  half  that  I  want  to.  I  wish  I  could 
keep  you  to  dinner.  Must  you  go  ?  Will  you  come  back 
afterward,  or  will  you  let  me  come  in  and  see  you  ?  I  am 
quite  curious  about  that  houseful  of  children." 

"  If  you  will  come  in,  I  shall  be  glad." 

"  Yes,  I  will,  good  and  early."  Then  she  paused,  and 
gave  a  little,  embarrassed  laugh.  "  Were  you  wanting  any- 
thing? Be  honest,  now.  Here  is  five  dollars  that  I  can 
let  you  have  just  as  well  as  not.  And  I'll  talk  to  Madame 
Denzil  to-night.  She's  jolly  good-natured,  and  no  mean- 
ness about  her.  Oh,  I  should  just  like  to  do  something  for 
you." 

The  money  was  crushed  in  Queenie's  hand,  whose  fair 
face  became  scarlet,  and  her  breath  almost  strangled  her. 

"  You  will  surely  come  ?  " 

"  Yes,  you  little  darling." 

Queenie  ran  down  the  stairs  with  a  light  heart.  The 
rain  was  pouring  now,  but  she  did  not  mind  it  as  she 
picked  her  way  to  the  nearest  grocery  and  purchased  some 
dinner  for  the  children.  She  found  the  house  in  an  up- 
roar. Cissy  was  standing  in  the  street  door,  the  babies 
were  crying  as  if  they  were  undergoing  a  scalping  process, 
the  fire  was  nearly  out,  but  in  spite  of  all,  Queenie's  spirits 
rose.  Her  newly-found  friend  had  been  so  sweet  and 
cordial. 

"And  to  think  that  I  do  not  even  know  her  name!" 
i'aughed  the  child ;  "  because  of  course  it  isn't  Miss  Keep." 

Cassy  and  Polly  had  a  hearty  meal,  and  felt  better  na- 
tured,  and  they  were  all  bright  enough  when  the  visitor 


328  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

entered.  Indeed,  Cissy  wanted  to  play  hostess  quite  to  the 
extinction  of  Queenie. 

"It's  so  odd  and  funny,"  exclaimed  the  guest.  "I  won- 
der  they  don't  all  call  you  little  mother,  as  Maggie  did  little 
Dorrit.  You  are  quite  sure  you  weren't  romancing  this 
morning?  I  can't  make  it  out  that  you've  been  on  the 
stage.  But  Mrs.  Keep  remembered  Signer  Barretti  and 
Queen  Titania.  You  don't  imagine  this  Owen  Thomas 
would  put  in  a  claim,  do  you?  although  I  think  I  should 
have  a  new  name." 

Queenie  inquired  that  of  her  new  friend,  and  found  it 
was  Florence  Fay,  though  she  admitted  that  in  reality  it 
was  Florence  Smith.  She  brought  with  her  a  programme 
containing  a  brief  description  of  the  acts,  in  which  she 
figured  as  Firefly.  There  were  nymphs  and  naiads  and 
mermaids,  and  every  romantic  and  grotesque  character 
under  the  sun,  it  seemed.  Tip,  who  never  had  a  sixpence 
for  any  one  else  managed  to  see  the  new  plays,  and  consid- 
ered himself  posted  in  actresses.  He  had  been  wildly  en- 
thusiastic over  the  Enchanted  Princess,  and  talked  of  it  so 
much  and  so  admiringly,  that  Queenie  now  felt  almost  as 
if  she  had  seen  it.  And  Miss  Fay  expatiated  on  the  ele- 
gance of  the  dresses,  the  beauty  and  style  of  the  girls,  and 
the  fascination  of  the  dancing. 

Theatre-goers  had  been  a  little  wary  at  first,  then  were 
taken  by  storm  and  capitulated.  There  was  not  much 
sense  or  dignity  in  the  play,  —  the  Princess  Silver,  who, 
through  the  first  part  of  her  life,  was  closely  guarded  from 
the  influence  of  a  malign  fairy,  fell  in  her  hands  when  least 
expected,  and  earth,  air,  and  sea  were  searched  for  the  lost 
heiress  of  a  princely  house.  There  was  a  brace  of  rival 
lovers,  a  false  friend,  in  love  with  one  of  these,  and  the 
scenes,  it  must  be  admitted,  were  admirably  managed. 

"  I  don't  know  but  I  might  smuggle  you  in  behind  the 
scenes,"  said  Miss  Fay.  "  And  I  will  talk  to  Madame 
Denzil,  —  she  is  mother  to  the  princess,  and  real  jolly  and 


A  NEW  FRIEND  AND  A  TRUE  FRIEND.      329 

clever.  Now  keep  up  heart,  and  if  there  is  any  way  to 
crowd  you  in  I'll  work  my  very  best  to  do  it.  You're  so 
pretty,  that's  in  your  favor.  And  dancing  on  the  boards  is 
pleasanter  work,  to  my  fancy,  than  starving  off  of  them. 
By,  by,  little  pet.  Look  for  me  in  to-morrow.  Oh, 
there's  a  matinee  at  one !  Let  me  see,  suppose  you  come 
in  about  ten,  instead.  Now  I  must  run  home,  and  take  an 
hour's  beauty  sleep,  for  I  was  up  early  this  morning." 

She  went  off  laughingly,  waving  her  hand.  Queenie  put 
on  the  kettle,  and  wondered  how  she  could  best  explain 
to  Peggy  her  new  acquaintance  and  the  borrowed  money. 
It  was  quite  dark  when  the  faithful  creature  came  in,  laden 
with  parcels,  as  cheery  of  voice  as  if  she  had  been  out  on 
a  holiday. 

Queenie  only  said,  M I  managed  to  get  enough  to  keep 
us  through  the  day,  but  her  face  flushed  an  uncomfortable 
scarlet.  Cissy  had  to  talk  about  the  sweet  lady  who  came 
in,  and  who  talked  and  laughed  so  much,  and  Queenie  ex- 
plained  that  it  was  Miss  Fay,  their  neighbor.  There  was 
supper,  and  bustle,  and  Pug  tormented  the  twins,  as  usual, 
and  Tip  came  in  with  his  big-boy  swagger,  and  what  with 
getting  the  younger  ones  to  bed  Queenie  had  hardly  time 
to  think,  only  she  felt  very  tired,  and  a  good  deal  excited. 

Would  anything  come  of  it?  If  she  only  could  earn  a 
little  money.  And  there  was  nothing  else.  She  could  not 
be  spared  to  tend  in  a  store,  or  to  sew,  and  at  either  the 
wages  were  a  mere  pittance.  Yet  she  shrank  unaccounta- 
bly from  the  stage.  Its  lights  and  glamour  could  not  warm 
her  into  one  ardent,  pleasurable  desire,  but  need  and  courage 
roused  her  instead. 

She  went  into  Miss  Fay's  promptly,  having  hurried  with 
her  work. 

"Oh,  you  dear  creature !"  —  and  Miss  Fay  kissed  her 
rapturously,  — "  the  funniest  thing  has  happened  ;  you 
really  couldn't  guess,  and  you're  to  go  down  with  me ;  you 
'must  be  all  ready  at  twelve.  I've  found  an  old  friend  of 


330  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

yours,  and  you*ll  be  just  the  luckiest  girl !  She's  dying  to 
see  you.  How  delightfully  puzzled  you  do  look !  It  is  as 
good  as  a  play." 

"  An  old  friend,**  replied  Queenie,  thoughtfully ;  a  it  isn't, 
it  can't  be,  Mrs.  Chippenham.'* 

u  No.  You  were  telling  me  about  her,  though,  —  some 
one  you  liked,  and  who  was  very  good  to  you.  When  I 
told  her,  she  was  just  frantic  to  see  you,  and  now  guess." 

Miss  Fay's  face  was  full  of  merry  mischief,  while 
Queenie's  was  puzzled  to  its  uttermost. 

"  Some  one  I  liked,"  she  repeated,  slowly.  "  There  was 
Dolly  St.  John,  —  oh,  it  is  she,  I  know.  I  see  it  in  your 
face." 

"  Yes  —  Madame  Denzil.  She  married  Pet  Denzil,  the 
biggest  flirt  in  Christendom ;  but  she  knows  it,  and  she 
isn't  a  bit  jealous,  so  they  get  along.  He's  one  of  the 
Princess*  lovers.  And  when  I  said,  last  night,  *  Did  you 
ever  hear  or  know  of  a  little  acrobat  and  dancer  named 
Queen  Titania?'  she  just  went  wild,  though  she  declared 
that  you  had  died  in  a  hospital,  and  nothing  would  convince 
her,  she  insisted,  but  actually  seeing  you.  Why,  it's  just 
the  queerest  thing, —  but  I  described  you  so  perfectly  that 
she  had  to  believe ;  and  now,  my  dear,  run  home  and 
put  on  your  store  clothes,  and  take  down  your  ravish- 
ing hair,  and  come  straight  back,  for  there  is  no  time  to 
waste.** 

Queenie  caught  the  spirit  of  the  adventure.  How  kind 
Dolly  St.  John  had  been  to  her  in  that  dreary  time  when 
Owen  Thomas  first  became  her  master.  There  was  no  one 
beside  Kate  that  she  should  be  so  glad  to  see,  for  Maggie 
had  faded  into  a  dim  dream. 

She  went  home  and  made  a  partial  explanation  to  Peggy, 
who  was  very  much  afraid  that  it  was  a  plot.  "And  what 
would  the  children  do  without  her?  and  poor  Miss  Madeiry, 
when  she  came  back  ?  and  theaytres  were  dangerous  things, 
no  good  ever  coming  of  them ;  but  thank  the  Lord  it  was 


A  NEW  FRIEND  AND  A  TRUE  FRIEND.      331 

daylight,  and  if  she  came  home  before  dark,  she,  Peggy, 
would  believe  then  that  she  was  safe." 

Moppet  begged  to  go,  too,  and  Cissy  cried,  but  Queenie 
presently  tore  herself  away  from  the  bedlam,  and  found 
Miss  Fay  waiting  for  her.  They  walked  out  to  the  corner 
of  the  street  and  took  the  horse-car,  and  Queenie  sat  al- 
most breathless,  wondering  how  it  would  be  to  meet  Dolly 
St.  John  once  more. 

Palace  Garden  had  been  repaired  and  refitted,  and  was 
now  considered  quite  a  gem  of  a  theatre  When  the 
Enchanted  Princess  was  first  brought  out  the  house  was 
crowded,  of  course.  Every  one  wanted  to  see  in  order  to 
judge ;  it  was  unfair  to  condemn  until  you  had  seen.  The 
actresses  were  mostly  young  and  pretty,  the  ballet  corps 
entrancingly  so.  The  manager  had  been  once  ruined  by 
the  legitimate  drama,  and  he  felt  that  he  must  retrieve  his 
fortune.  And  now  he  was  in  a  fair  way  to  do  it.  The 
place  was  crowded  nightly.  There  might  be  something  a 
little  questionable  in  the  dressing  and  the  dancing,  but  the 
play  had  no  immoral  points.  The  songs  were  delicious  lit- 
tle bits,  the  scenery  simply  magnificent,  the  tableaux  and 
transformations  wonderful  I  They  did,  indeed,  hold  the 
audience  spell-bound. 

The  two  girls  disappeared  through  a  rear  entrance,  and 
threaded  their  way  in  and  out  of  dim  passages  to  the 
green-room,  which  was  very  fairly  appointed,  and  thronged 
by  fairies,  princes,  peasants,  nymphs,  imps,  and  various 
creatures  of  earth  and  air,  in  glittering  and  diaphanous 
drapery,  satin  tights,  spangles,  and  tinsel.  There  were 
pretty  faces  and  trim  figures,  lithe,  shapely  limbs,  dainty 
feet  and  ankles,  and  all  the  purely  physical  material  that 
goes  to  make  the  modern  half-burlesque  a  success. 

There  was  Queen  Charmante  in  her  crown.  She  turned 
and  took  a  step  forward  — 

**  How  late  you  are,  Fay,"  she  exclaimed.     "  And  you've 


332  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

brought  her !  Come  right  in  the  dressing-room.  It  surely 
isn't  —  Queen  Titania  ?  Why,  child I  n 

And  that  was  Dolly  St.  John,  a  rather  stout  woman  now, 
what  with  late  suppers,  wines,  and  delicacies.  She  took 
Queenie  by  the  shoulder  and  drew  her  toward  the  flaring 
light. 

"  You  just  get  into  your  rig  double  quick,  Fay.  Why, 
you've  grown,"  this  to  Queenie,  "  but  I  should  have  known 
you,  I'm  pretty  sure.  You've  the  same  wonderful  eyes, 
with  their  velvety  softness,  and  oh,  your  hair  is  still  golden  ! 
Why,  I  can't  believe  it !  Thomas  said  you  were  sick  and 
died  in  a  hospital.  Are  n't  you  a  bit  glad  to  see  me,  child  ?  " 

"  You  were  so  kind  to  me  —  I've  always  remembered  it," 
Queenie  said,  in  a  tremulous  tone.  "  And  do  you  know 
where  he  is?  "  looking  around  furtively  as  if  Thomas  might 
pounce  down  and  claim  her. 

"  Who,  Thomas  ?  Gone  to  the  dogs  ! "  with  a  careless 
laugh.  "  He  has  come  to  the  gutter  stage.  But  I  can't 
believe  it,"  studying  the  fair  face.  "Will  you  swear  that 
you  are  no  impostor,  you  lovely  little  midget." 

"  I  surely  am  Titania,"  was  the  response. 

"  Fay  was  telling  me  the  strangest  jumble,  but  I  suppose 
it  is  all  true.  You  were  a  little  nun,  then,  and  wouldn't 
have  told  a  lie  to  save  your  head.  And  so  you  want  to 
come  back  to  the  stage  again  ;  but  you  do  look  too  sweet 
and  innocent!  And  yet,  if  you  were  a  clerk  in  a  store, 
men  would  think  you  fair  game  for  insolence,  and  you  can 
keep  good  if  you  try.  Many  a  one  does,  in  spite  of  all  the 
howl  that  is  made.  There's  the  call-bell.  Sit  down  and 
be  comfortable.  I  shall  be  off  in  the  next  scene,  Addio," 
aad  she  floated  away,  arrayed  in  golden  tissues  and  spark- 
ling jewels. 

Fay  was  transformed  into  a  coquettish  shepherdess,  and 
with  ribboned  crook  in  hand,  waited  for  her  turn,  improv- 
ing the  time  by  a  running  talk  to  Queenie,  and  then  she 


A  NEW  FRIEND  AND  A  TRUE  FRIEND.      333 

brought  her  out  to  a  nook  in  the  side-scenes,  where  she 
could  have  a  view  of  the  stage. 

How  strangely  familiar,  and  yet  how  bewildering!  Again, 
for  a  moment,  she  was  dainty,  delicate  Queen  Titania,  being 
held  in  Dick  Bridger's  strong  arms.  His  tender,  encour- 
aging kiss  was  on  her  cheek,  and  all  this  tumult  of  applause 
was  for  her. 

During  the  next  scene  Madame  Denzil  carried  her  off  ;o 
the  dressing-room,  and  the  whole  time  was  spent  in  con- 
versation, going  over  the  past  that  had  been  so  strangely 
eventful  to  Queenie,  and  yet  changed  her  so  little. 

Queen  Charmante  introduced  her  to  a  number  of  the 
actresses,  and  to  several  of  the  actors,  her  husband  among 
them.  It  seemed  an  endless  mass  of  confusion,  crowds  in 
gauzy  drapery  rushing  hither  and  thither,  music  of  the 
mad,  daring,  bewildering  order,  songs  that  were  gayety 
itself,  and  oh,  such  dancing !  Never  had  Queenie  seen  any- 
thing to  compare  with  it.  Her  pulses  beat  in  riotous  tu- 
mult, she  held  her  breath  and  wondered. 

And  as  she  was  standing  there,  her  cheeks  all  aglow,  her 
eyes,  great  lucid  lakes  of  entrancing  light,  her  fair  hair 
like  a  sea  of  gold  about  her,  Madame  Denzil  brought  up 
the  manager. 

"  There,  isn't  she  a  beauty  ?  "  she  asked,  in  a  whisper. 
"And  she  can't  have  forgotten  her  training.  It  would 
soon  come  back  to  her.  I  never  saw  her  equal  as  a  child." 

Queenie  turned,  and  a  bright  color  suffused  her  face,  while 
the  enchanting  eyes  were  wistful  and  eager. 

"My  dear, I  want  to  introduce  you  to  Mr.  Ritchie.  Miss 
Barretti,  my  dear  manager.  Now  you  had  better  secure 
your  prize,"  she  went  on,  with  a  light  laugh.  "  You  can 
put  in  a  special  dance  for  her  and  get  everybody  else  by 
the  ears.  I  ought  to  have  seized  upon  some  traps  and 
attired  her  gorgeously,  that  you  might  see  her  make  up, 
which  would  be  just  ravishing." 

The  manager  studied  her  from  head  to  foot.     A  rarely 


334  LOST   IN   A   GBEAT   CITY. 

handsome  girl,  and  even  in  her  plain  dress  he  could  see  the 
pliant  grace  of  her  figure. 

"You  think  you  could  dance,  Miss  Barretti  ?  "  he  asked, 
in  a  pleasent  tone. 

"  Oh,  to  that  music,  and  where  everything  is  so  beauti- 
ful — "  and  it  seemed  as  if  every  feature  quivered  with 
excitement. 

"  Suppose  you  hunt  up  something  and  try  her.  We're 
full  enough,  but  first-class  talent  seldom  comes  amiss. 
Now  if  she  could  rival  Mademoiselle  Zelie — "  and  the 
manager  drew  a  half-thoughtful,  half-questioning  pucker  in 
his  open  brow. 

"  Why,  I  am  sure  she  could.  See  here  —  let  me  put  her 
into  something,  and  just  try  her  in  that  fairy-ring.  Then 
you  can  judge.  And  she  might  be  able  to  fill  Madem- 
oiselle Zelie's  part  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  audience.  You 
see  if  she  doesn't  stop  here  she  is  likely  to  go  somewhere 
else,"  said  Madame  Denzil,  who  was  desirous  of  doing  all 
she  could  for  her  old-time  favorite. 

"  Well,  you  may  try  her  in  that  fairy-ring.  Did  you 
ever  have  a  touch  of  stage-fright,  little  one  ? " 

**I  used  to  be  afraid,  first,  of  the  flying  leaps  from  the 
gallery  to  the  stage,  and  then  the  pedestal-dance  seemed 
BO  terrible.  I  am  sure  I  couldn't  be  afraid  on  the  floor," 
Queenie  replied,  with  a  touch  of  shy  grace. 

"  What  was  the  pedestal- dance  ?  " 

The  child  described  the  great  feat  of  Owen  Thomas' 
management. 

"And  you  did  that?  Then  your  nerves  are  steady 
enough  for  anything !  Why,  Denzil,  that  idea  of  a  dance 
:  n  the  clouds  might  be  possible,  you  see  !  Yes,  rig  her  up 
as  quick  as  you  can.  Where's  Kitty  Dean  ?  She  carries 
the  key  of  the  property-closet.  There,  I  must  run." 

"  My  pretty  pet,''  said  Madame  Denzil,  "  your  fortune  is 
about  made  if  you  have  any  mother-wit.  I  want  you  to 
dance  your  very  prettiest  in  the  fairy-ring,  for  Ritchie  will 


A  NEW   FRIEND   AND   A   TRUE   FRIEND.  335 

be  watching  you  like  a  cat.  It  is  odd  to  go  on  without  a 
bi<,  of  a  rehearsal,  too,  but  the  success  will  be  so  much  the 
greater.  Kitty  !  Kitty  Dean  ! " 

A  rather  stout,  pleasant-faced  woman  answered  the 
summons. 

"  Hunt  me  up  a  costume  for  this  girl,  —  the  very  pret- 
tiest there  is.  You  see,"  turning  to  Queenie,  "  there  isn't 
much,  any  how,  —  only  odds  and  ends,  to  use  in  case  of  an 
emergency.  Is  that  my  call?  Oh,  yes.  I'll  be  back  in 
just  five  minutes.  Go  to  my  dressing-room  with  the 
things ; "  and  Madame  Denzil  disappeared. 

Kitty  obeyed,  wonderingly. 

"  Haven't  you  any  wardrobe  of  your  own  ?  "  she  asked, 
eying  the  new  comer  sharply. 

"  Not  here,"  was  Queenie's  quiet  reply. 

"  Oh  !  Well,  this  is  the  best  I  can  do.  Charmante  can 
put  some  pieces  of  ribbon  together  with  a  pin,  and  make  a 
costume  out  of  it.  I  never  saw  her  equal.  And  she's 
main  good-natured.  Not  many  women  would  let  their 
husbands  go  round  making  love  to  other  girls,  and  he 
younger,  too,  and  a  handsome  chap.  But  somehow  he 
doesn't  seem  to  get  out  of  love  with  her,  and  maybe  the 
rest  is  all  fooling.  She's  cute,  I  tell  you,  is  the  Den- 
zil. She  can  twist  Ritchie  round  her  finger,  and  there'" 
nothing  like  being  on  her  right  side.  Zelie  hates  her 
good,  and  she,  you  know,  just  laughs  at  it.  But  it's  my 
opinion  she'll  give  her  a  back-hander  some  day>  when  she 
won't  know  who  struck  her.  I'd  help  you  dress,  only  \ 
don't  know  just  what  she'd  like.  You've  been  on  the 
stage  before,  of  course.  "What  in  .' w 

"  Fancy  dancing,"  replied  Queenie  with  a  little  hesita- 
tion. 

Then  Madame  Denzil  came  flying  into  the  room,  crying 
eagerly,  "Not  a,  moment  to  lose.  I  must  have  you  made 
up  in  a  trice  !  " 

It  was  well  for  Queenie  that  she  had  no  time  for  consid- 


336  LOST  IN   A   GREAT  CITY. 

eration.  She  was  out  of  ono  garment  into  another;  she 
was  hustled  about,  turned  round,  a  pin  put  in  here,  a 
stitch  taken  there,  her  beautiful  hair  brushed  out  until  it 
was  like  a  misty  cloud  about  her,  and  then  Madame  Denzil 
called  loudly : 

M  Ritchie !  Ritchie !  come  here  and  see  a  veritable 
fairy!" 

Queenie  flushed  as  his  eyes  ran  over  the  scanty  drapery. 
Certainly,  for  beauty  of  form  and  lissome  grace  she  might 
have  been  born  a  Greek  nymph.  As  she  stood  there  so 
bashfully  there  was  not  an  awkward  line  about  her.  The 
slim  figure,  the  daintily-flushing  complexion,  the  fine  wavi- 
ness  of  her  silken-soft  hair  of  palest  gold,  the  exquisitely- 
flexible  rounding  of  the  form,  which  betokened  grace  and 
agility,  caught  the  manager's  eye  at  once. 

"Now,  if  you  don't  get  frightened  and  awkward!"  and 
he  began  to  explain  the  scene  to  her. 

"  Queenie,  if  you  make  one  poor  or  weak  movement  I 
will  never  forgive  you,"  whispered  Madame  Denzil,  —  but 
she  kissed  her  fondly  for  all  that. 


AMID  THE  LIGHTS  337 


CHAPTER  XXVIIL 

AMID    THE   LIGHTS. 

THE  lights  were  low;  there  was  a  sweet,  wandering 
melody,  "viol,  flute,  and  bassoon,"  the  winding  trill  of 
French  horns,  the  soft,  wary  piping  of  the  cornet,  and  all 
the  air  seemed  throbbing  with  rhythmic  waves. 

Beauty  and  fashion  were  plentifully  sprinkled  among 
the  audience.  Elegant  and  exclusive  mammas,  who  were 
not  quite  sure  that  it  would  be  proper  for  young  men  to 
bring  their  daughters  in  the  evening,  allowed  themselves 
to  be  persuaded  into  chaperoning  them  at  a  matinee. 
Young  wives,  with  rather  fogyish  husbands,  lured,  or 
teased,  or  cried  them  into  the  indulgence.  It  was  a  trifle 
naughty,  perhaps,  but  it  was  so  magnificently  beautiful,  so 
entrancing !  And  after  all  there  was  ballet-dancing  at 
operas,  and  no  one  thought  of  staying  away.  A  past 
generation  had  gone  wild  over  Vestris,  Taglioni,  and 
Celeste,  so  why  should  one  be  horrified  at  these  girlish 
dancers  ? 

The  stage,  too,  was  in  a  dim,  suggestive  light.  There 
was  a  lake,  with  its  shadowy  edges,  a  greensward,  looking 
like  velvet.  Out  of  the  purple  and  twilight  sprang  a 
group  of  figures,  —  fairies,  indeed,  in  gossamer  robes,  — 
Peasblossom,  Cobweb,  and  Moth,  surely;  Water-lily  rising 
out  of  the  rushes ;  wood-elves  springing  from  cloven  pines. 
How  noiselessly  they  trouped  over  the  stage,  making  the 
most  bewildering  figures  and  poses,  and  each  one,  at  inter- 
vals, doing  an  enchanting  little  aside,  as  if  she  were  danc- 
ing solely  for  herself. 

Queenie  joined  the  group  timidly.  She  was  not  afraid, 
22 


338  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

and  yet  a  strange  hesitation  came  over  her.  But  the  musia 
was  delicious,  inspiriting;  the  flashing,  gauzy  figures  brought 
back  a  touch  of  the  old  glamour,  and  when  she  had  once 
begun  she  seemed  like  one  bewitched.  All  the  old  passion 
and  grace  and  daring  came  to  her  aid.  The  power  that 
had  held  others  enchanted  began  to  enchant  herself. 

**  There,  I  told  you ! "  exclaimed  Madame  Denzil,  in  tri- 
umph, just  behind  a  side  scene. 

"  She's  a  born  dancer ! "  laughed  Ritchie,  "  but  then  she 
has  had  some  magnificent  training.  Barretti  was  a  re- 
markable acrobat.  And,  Denzil,  why  couldn't  we  have 
that  cloud-dance?  Zelie  wouldn't  risk  her  precious  limbs, 
of  course,  and  she's  much  stouter.  I  wish  she  would  go 
farther  front  —  "and  this  referred  to  Queenie.  "Can  you 
whisper  to  her?  I  am  afraid  I  should  make  her  nervous." 

Madame  Denzil  whispered  that  and  something  more. 
And  then  to  Queenie  came  one  of  those  sudden,  daring 
impulses,  on  which  the  pivot  of  many  a  fortune  has  turned. 
There  was  an  urgent  pecuniary  need  of  her  being  a  suc- 
cess, there  was  also  an  earnest  desire  on  her  part.  The 
enchantment  of  season  and  scene  began  to  work  with  her, 
and  it  seemed  once  more  as  if  Dick  Bridger  was  there 
with  the  tenderest  of  caresses  and  sweet  praises.  She 
was  Queen  Titania  again. 

Out  farther  in  widening,  mazy  circles,  floating  as  if  on 
air,  the  twinkling  feet  scarcely  touching  the  floor,  the  pale 
hair  a  halo  of  scintillant  lights,  the  brown  eyes  humid  and 
glowing,  yet  with  a  strange  softness  in  their  fire,  the  white 
arms  gleaming  and  describing  the  most  picturesque  of 
curves  above  her  head,  across  her  bosom,  and  in  the  per- 
fumed air.  She  caught  the  figures,  partly  from  the  others, 
partly  from  her  past  experience,  but  the  most  beautiful  of 
all  were  a  present  inspiration.  Nearer  and  nearer  the  foot- 
HghtSj  her  pure  white  drapery,  with  very  few  gauds,  giving 
her  a  wonderful  wraith-like  appearance,  and  then  she 
paused  a  moment,  in  so  startlincr  a  pose  that  she  might 


AMID  THE  LIGHTS.  339 

have  been  a  flying  nymph  suddenly  transfixed  by  sight  01 
sound  unknown  to  others. 

The  vast  audience  held  its  breath  an  instant,  and  then 
there  was  a  storm  of  applause  so  sudden  that  it  startled 
her,  woke  her  out  of  her  impassioned  dream,  and  she 
seemed  to  float  away  like  a  spirit.  Indeed,  she  ran  pant- 
ing, and  full  of  vague  fear,  to  Madame  Denzil's  very  arms. 

"  Why,  child,  it  was  wonderful !  You've  carried  Ritchie 
captive.  Mademoiselle  Zelie  had  better  look  to  her  laurels. 
There,  you  will  have  to  go  back.  They  are  calling  you." 

"  Oh,  no,  no  !"  and  Queenie  clung  to  her  friend. 

"Don't  be  foolish  now.  Audiences  won't  stand  that 
sort  of  thing.  They  insist  upon  having  their  appreciation 
appreciated  in  turn.  Come.  You  are  not  frightened.  It 
was  exquisite." 

"  They  are  calling  you  ! "  cried  out  Ritchie,  impatiently. 
"  It  won't  do  to  miss  such  a  hit  as  that.  Hurry  her  on 
again.  It  may  be  worth  a  fortune  to  her." 

She  needed  money  so  much,  poor  Queenie !  Not  for 
herself —  and  all  the  sweet,  helpless  arms  seemed  to  cling 
to  her  at  once,  all  the  dear  faces  look  at  her  with  their 
imploring  fondness.  It  was  the  fortune  she  wanted,  but 
the  applause  was  the  royal  road  to  it. 

"May  I  have  a  little  drink  of  water  ?"  she  asked  timidly, 
u  and  then  I  will  be  ready." 

Madame  Denzil  kissed  her  in  the  old  enthusiastic  fash- 
ion of  Dolly  St.  John.  There  were  some  calls  amidst  the 
applause  as  she  hurried  out  again,  and  was  rapturously 
received. 

What  did  she  do  before  ?  She  had  almost  forgotten. 
It  was  as  well  perhaps,  for  the  freshness  of  her  figures  en- 
tranced the  audience  anew. 

"That's  the  divine  art  of  dancing!"  exclaimed  Ritchie, 
rubbing  his  hands.  "  Zelie's  has  a  good  deal  of  the  can- 
can about  it,  but  this  is  the  pure  poetry  of  motion.  Why, 
I  do  believe  I  could  look  at  her  an  hour  myself.  She 


340  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

makes  you  think  of  some  radiant  flower  swaying  in  th« 
wind.  Denzil  you  have  discovered  a  star ! " 

The  curtain  fell  at  length  amidst  enthusiastic  applause. 
The  audience  looked  at  their  programmes  and  began  to 
whisper.  "  Some  one  quite  new  ! "  ".  What  a  lovely  be- 
ing ! "  "It  was  not  Zelie  I  tell  you  —  she  would  make 
two  of  this  girl."  "  What  wonderful  feet  and  ankles ! " 
and  so  on. 

Queenie  was  quite  exhausted.  Mrs.  Denzil  shut  the 
others  out  of  the  dressing-room,  and  there  was  a  shrill  call 
of  names  for  the  next  scene.  Fay  was  besieged.  Who 
was  she  ?  Would  she  take  Zelie's  place  ?  What  mag- 
nificent training !  What  a  pretty  girl !  "  And  there  were 
some  jealous  dissentient  voices.  It  was  not  in  human 
nature  that  they  should  cordially  welcome  a  rival. 

She  lay  on  the  sofa  in  the  dressing-room  in  a  strange 
flutter.  The  unwonted  violence  of  the  exercise  seemed  to 
have  taken  the  strength  out  of  every  nerve  and  muscle. 
Madame  Denzil  threw  a  soft  wrap  over  her  and  ran  away, 
and  for  some  time  she  was  left  quite  alone.  At  this  point 
of  the  play  the  whole  troupe  were  needed  every  moment, 
hardly  allowed  time  to  dress  for  their  parts,  indeed. 

But  after  a  while  the  enchanted  Princess  had  been  found 
and  restored  to  her  home,  the  rival  lovers  had  fought  their 
way  through  flood  and  fire,  the  villain  falling  into  a  trap 
laid  for  the  other,  the  hero  winning  his  beautiful  bride,  the 
king  and  queen  and  a  grand  procession  following.  Then 
there  was  a  last  magnificent  transformation  scene,  the  prin- 
cess and  her  lover  sailing  over  the  lake  in  a  glittering  barge. 
All  the  shore  was  lined  with  marvellous  bloom.  Here  lay 
a  fairy  asleep  in  a  lily-cup,  there,  between  a  cluster  of  roses, 
peered  out  a  nymph  or  a  cupid.  Every  bud  you  looked  at 
Beemed  to  turn  into  something  rare  and  strange,  with  a 
beautiful  human  face,  while  Pan  piped  among  the  reeds. 

Madame  Denzil  was  not  in  this,  and  she  flew  to  the  dress- 
ing-room. 


AMID   THE   LIGHTS.  341 

a  My  dear  child,"  she  began  hurriedly,  "  I  am  going  to 
give  you  a  bit  of  advice.  Ritchie  is  decidedly  smitten 
with  you,  and  you  can  make  yourself  all  the  rage.  But 
money  is  the  great  thing  in  this  world.  No  doubt  he  will 
offer  you  twenty  dollars  a  week  —  " 

"Twenty  dollars !"  cried  Queenie,  in  a  tone  of  joy. 
"And  all  for  dancing  a  little  while  every  evening!  Oh, 
Madame  Denzil,  it  would  be  a  fortune ! " 

"  You  little  goose !  Hold  yourself  high  and  others  will 
hold  you  so.  You  see  you  don't  need  to  begin  at  the 
bottom  of  the  ladder,  among  the  rank  and  file  who  expect 
to  make  the  best  use  of  their  pretty  faces  and  trim  figures, 
and  maybe  catch  a  husband  in  an  unwary  admirer.  You 
have  made  a  decided  hit,  and  then  you  have  the  prestige 
of  being  Queen  Titania.  And,  child,  you  haven't  any 
idea  how  marvellously  beautiful  you  are.  There's  that 
Helene  Duprez  —  all  he  hires  her  for  is  her  pretty  face,  for 
she  dances  like  an  elephant.  And  here  is  Mademoiselle 
Zelie,  who  does  not  lower  her  prices  any,  I  assure  you. 
Why,  I  suppose  if  you  had  a  mind  to  take  up  the  old  per- 
formance  you  might  get  fifty  dollars  a  week." 

"  Fifty  dollars ! "  Queenie's  face  was  one  stare  of  aston- 
ishment. 

"  Yes.  Do  you  know  that  Owen  Thomas  had  to  pay  one 
hundred  dollars  a  month  for  you.  And  I've  never  forgiven 
that  woman  for  hiring  you  out  when  she  had  so  much 
money.  Well,  I  just  want  to  enlarge  your  sphere  of  wis- 
dom. When  Ritchie  conies  to  talk  business,  you  tell  him 
that,  what  Thomas  paid,  I  mean,  and  ask  him  fifty  dollars. 
You'll  end  by  getting  thirty.  Don't  come  for  a  cent  less 
than  that.  And  see  here  —  you  won't  care  about  being  here 
again  to-night  ?  " 

"  No,  I  cannot,"  said  Queenie,  "  there  is  so  much  to  see 
to  this  evening.  And,  oh,  I  must  go  home.  They  will  all 
be  so  worried." 

"  Oh,  it  isn't  late.     Well,  I  was  saying  —  you  offer  to 


342  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

come  on  Monday  night,  and  dance,  and  if  you  are  a  sue* 
cess,  which  you  will  be,  of  course,  then  make  your  bargain. 
Don't  be  jewed  out  of  a  fair  price.  There  are  girls  dancing 
here  for  ten  dollars  a  week ;  well,  perhaps  it  is  as  much  as 
they  are  worth,  but  don't  you  begin  any  such  work.  And 
do  not  tell  a  soul  what  you  mean  to  ask,  even  that  clever 
little  Fay.  There's  Ritchie." 

Madame  Denzil  began,  suddenly,  in  the  midst  of  one  of 
their  Canadian  experiences,  which  Ritchie  interrupted. 

"Miss  Barretti,"  he  commenced,  "could  I  see  you  on 
Monday  morning,  here  at  the  office,  say  ?  I  should  like  to 
have  a  talk  about  business." 

Queenie  looked  wistfully  at  her  companion. 

"  Why,  child,  you  are  old  enough  to  make  bargains  for 
yourself,"  said  Madame  Denzil,  laughingly.  "Don't  ap- 
peal to  me  in  that  frightened  way.  Come  down  and  see 
Mr.  Ritchie,  he  is  not  quite  an  ogre.  Is  Fay  going  to  take 
you  home  ?  " 

Miss  Fay  made  her  appearance  at  that  moment. 

"  Miss  Barretti,"  she  exclaimed,  "  I  am  not  going  np 
home.  I  seldom  do  after  a  matinee.  But  I'll  put  you  in 
the  car  —  " 

tt  Why  not  stay  down  ?  w 

"  Yes,"  said  the  manager.  "  Try  us  again  to-night.  If 
you  like  to  see  part  of  the  play  in  one  of  the  boxes  —  " 

"  I  am  much  obliged,  but  I  cannot.  They  would  feel  so 
worried  at  home.  And  I  had  better  go,"  glancing  around 
with  shy  entreaty. 

"  Well.  Don't  let  any  one  else  spirit  you  away,  and  we 
will  settle  our  business  on  Monday  morning.  Good-day ; 
but  it  is  almost  evening,  isn't  it?"  with  a  cheerful  laugh. 

"  Give  me  your  address.  I  want  to  see  you  to-morrow," 
whispered  Madame  Denzil. 

She  wished  them  good-evening,  and  withdrew.  How 
odd  it  seemed  to  come  out  to  daylight.  She  stared  around, 
in  odd  uncertainty. 


JLMID  THE  LIGHTS.  343 

"It  seems  as  if  I  must  have  been  in  there  half  the  day 
and  all  night,  and  am  just  waking  up." 

Queenie  rubbed  her  eyes  as  she  spoke,  and  as  they 
turned  the  corner  a  sudden  gust  took  them. 

"The  gaslight,  and  all  that,  in  the  daytime.  I  say 
you're  just  splendid,  you  are !  Why,  I  wouldn't  have  be- 
lieved it.  Half  a  dozen  of  the  girls  are  ready  to  eat  you  up, 
without  a  grain  of  salt.  It  makes  me  laugh  to  see  them 
go  on  so.  I'm  not  jealous,  though  I  might  be  about  a 
lover,"  reflectively.  "  And  I  don't  care  for  the  mere  dan- 
cing. I  aspire  to  playing,  as  well.  But  won't  there  be  a 
nice  row  to-night  with  Mam'selle  Zelie !" 

"Why  was  she  not  here  this  afternoon?" 

"  Oddly  enough,  the  Saturday  matinee  was  left  out  of  her 
agreement,  though  Ritchie  declares  he  spoke  of  it,  but  it 
isn't  in  the  bond,  and  she  will  not  come  without  extra  pay. 
But  her  especial  admirers  are  out  in  greater  force  in  the 
evening.  She's  one  of  the  stunning  sort,  and  gained  an 
immense  reputation  in  some  opera  boufle  at  Paris.  Here's 
your  car.  Good-night  little  chicken.  You  may  consider 
an  engagement  sure,  for  Ritchie  is  struck  with  you." 

Queenie  stepped  into  the  car,  pulled  her  veil  over  her 
face,  and  no  one  remarked  her,  though  it  seemed  to  her 
that  every  one  must  know  that  she  had  been  dancing  at  the 
matinee.  It  was  quite  dark  when  she  reached  the  well- 
known  corner,  and  she  ran  fleetly  down  the  street. 

The  children  were  around  the  table,  and  each  one 
uttered  a  cry  of  joy,  interspersed  with  sundry  ejaculations. 
The  babies  must  kiss  her,  and  Cissy  gave  her  a  rapturous 
hug. 

w  Tip  was  going  down  to  the  theatre  after  supper,"  an- 
nounced Moppet. 

"And  you've  really  been  to  Palace  Garden!"  exclaimed 
Tip.  "  Isn't  the  Enchanted  Princess  immense  I " 

tt  Why  can't  I  go  ?  "  cried  Pug. 


344  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CTTT. 

"  Could  you  get  any  of  us  in  ?  Could  I  go  ? "  waa 
Moppet's  eager  question. 

Peggy  was  frying  cakes.     Now  she  spoke  up. 

"Do  let  the  poor  child  alone,  with  your  worry  in*  her 
like  a  badger.  Take  off  your  hat,  Miss  Queenie,  and  have 
a  good  cup  of  tay.  An'  wasn't  it  out  till  now,  or  were  you 
with  the  young  lady?" 

"  Oh,  I've  so  much  to  tell  you  that  I  hardly  know  where 
to  begin.  Yes,  the  play  was  beautiful;  and  oh,  Tip,  I 
danced,  actually,  in  the  fairy-ring,  and  was  applauded,  so 
that  I  had  to  come  out  and  dance  again.  I  don't  know,  I 
felt  as  if  I  was  bewitched.  The  lights  and  the  music,  and 
the  crowd  of  people." 

Her  eyes  were  glowing,  and  her  cheeks  scarlet,  while  her 
pretty  ripe  lips  quivered. 

*«Oh,  Queenie,  you're  just  too  beautiful  for  anything!" 
cried  Moppet,  admiringly,  catching  her  hand,  and  giving 
it  a  squeeze. 

"The  holy  Virgin  save  us!"  ejaculated  Peggy,  turning 
a  cake  off  the  griddle  on  the  floor. 

After  a  long  while  the  story  seemed  to  get  told  in  de- 
tachments, with  many  wondering  comments. 

"  But  what  I  am  thinking  of,"  said  Queenie,  her  sweet 
face  all  aglow  with  a  tender  light, "  is  the  money.  I  hope  it 
isn't  wicked  to  be  so  mercenary.  Twenty  dollars  a  week, 
and  it  won't  be  less  than  that;  think  what  we  can  do! 
And  you  may  have  some  shoes,  Moppet,  and  there  will  be 
no  more  going  without  lunches,  and  scrimping,  and  we  can 
pay  back  Peggy,  and  all  the  other  bills ;  and  I  am  so  happy, 
BO  very,  very  happy  ! " 

There  Queenie  broke  down  with  a  nervous  crying  fit. 
Every  one  of  the  noisy  group  was  fain  to  rush  and  comfort 
her. 

"Get  away  I  get  away,"  said  Peggy,  authoritively. 
"  Let  the  poor  lamb  drink  her  cup  o'  tay,  and  have  a  bite. 
She's  dead  tired  out,  what  with  all  your  clatter.  Not  a 


AMID  THE   LIGHTS.  345 

word  now.  If  you're  not  as  whist  as  mice  sure  every  sowl 
of  you'll  go  packing  off  up-stairs." 

That  peremptory  mandate  restored  order  and  quiet. 
Queenie  was  too  excited  to  eat,  but  she  glanced  at  them 
all  and  smiled,  while  Cissy  declared  that  Peggy  was  a  cross 
old  thing. 

Tip  had  been  very  silent,  studying  Queenie  with  a  sort 
of  amazement,  and  thinking  some  new  thoughts  that  had 
never  entered  his  mind  before;  thoughts  that,  strangely 
enough,  were  destined  to  bear  fruit  all  the  rest  of  the  boy's 
life.  The  rough  outside  burr  had  been  pierced. 

He  came  gravely  around  to  Queenie,  stooped  and  kissed 
her,  and  began  huskily,  while  a  tear  shone  in  his  eye,  — 

"Queenie,  you  are  an  angel,  and  Prn  a  great  selfish 
booby  I  I  don't  deserve  anything.  I  ought  to  be  kept  on 
bread  and  water,  and  —  and  —  well,  I  don't  know  what  is 
bad  enough  to  happen  to  me.  Here  you  and  Peggy  have 
been  slaving  yourselves  to  death,  borrowing  and  scraping 
and  running  in  debt,  that  my  brothers  and  sisters  shouldn't 
starve.  And  I  haven't  minded  —  oh,  it's  been  beastly 
cruel  in  me!  I've  just  gone  on  and  had  the  best." 

Here  Tip  broke  down  and  sobbed  on  Queenie's  shoulder. 

"Why  does  not  some  one  scold  me  ?  "  he  went  on,  angrily. 
"  Oh,  if  pa  ever  does  come  back,  Queenie,  or  if  I  live  to 
be  a  man,  I'll  work  my  finger-ends  off  for  you.  I've  been 
a  lazy,  good-for-nothing  fellow." 

"  Oh,  Tip,  dear,  don't,"  and  she  was  crying  again. 

"It's  been  very,  very  hard.  Yesterday  we  wouldn't 
have  had  any  money  only  that  nice  little  Miss  Fay  lent  me 
some  —  lent  it  without  asking,  either.  Oh,  if  we  only  can 
get  out  of  debt,  and  not  have  to  go  on  credit,  and  if  auntie 
Madeira  gets  well  —  " 

"  I'm  main  afeared  of  theaytres  lamb,"  said  Peggy,  com- 
ing around  the  other  side  to  caress  her ;  "  but  it  does  seem 
as  if  the  saints  had  opened  a  way.  I  was  thinking  this 
very  day,  whatever  should  we  do  to  keep  out  of  'sylums  and 


346  LOST  IN  A   GREAT  CITY. 

poor-houses,  and  here  it's  all  made  plain;  but  I  hope  there's 
no  wrong.  I  mind  when  I  was  a  girl  at  home  yonder,"  — 
nodding  her  head,  —  "  many's  the  time  I've  danced  on  the 
green  with  my  skirts  kilted,  and  been  none  the  worse.  Ah, 
but  I  loved  it,  too  ;  an'  weddings  an'  christenings  were  big 
things.  An  if  ye  will  ye  can  keep  good  anywhere,  an'  I 
pray  for  ye  night  an'  mornin'.  An',  please  God,  we'll  see 
some  better  times.  An'  won't  the  Madam  —  what  d'ye 
call  her — take  a  motherly  care  over  you  ?" 

44  Queenie,"  said  Tip,  "  I  wonder  if  you'd  like  me  to  come 
for  you  every  evening?  I  could  do  that.  You  are  too 
pretty  to  be  out  in  the  streets  alone  at  night." 

"  Oh,  Tip,  that  would  be  so  good  of  you,"  she  returned, 
gratefully. 

u  See  here,  Queenie,  I'm  going  to  turn  over  a  new  leaf. 
I  can't  talk  much  about  it,  but  you  will  see." 

She  kissed  him  very  tenderly. 

Gassy  had  fallen  asleep  over  his  supper,  and  they  were 
all  astonished  to  find  how  late  it  was.  So  the  dishes 
were  washed,  and  the  children  put  to  bed.  Tip  did  not  go 
out  as  usual,  and  amazed  Peggy  by  offering  to  bring  up 
some  coal. 

But  last  of  all,  Queeuie  and  Peggy  sat  up  until  nearly 
midnight,  discoursing  on  what  theatrical  life  was  like,  the 
simple  woman  being  astounded  by  the  girl's  larger  expe- 
riencea. 


FOR  LOVE'S  SAKE.  347 


CHAPTER 

FOB  LOVE'S   SAKE. 

MADAME  DENZTL  and  Miss  Fay  had  advised,  and 
Queenie,  not  being  altogether  ignorant  on  the  subject,  had 
been  able  to  make  a  very  good  bargain,  —  what  she  con- 
sidered a  fortune,  in  fact,  —  thirty  dollars  a  week  for  the 
first  month.  Then  there  appeared  bits  of  notices  here  and 
there  about  the  new  star  in  the  Enchanted  Princess,  Mad- 
emoiselle Zanfretti.  They  had  stood  quite  a  while  over 
the  old  name,  Queen  Titania,  but  the  child  herself  pre- 
ferred a  new  stage  appellation.  Just  now,  of  all  times, 
she  wanted  no  one  to  claim  her.  If  she  could  only  take 
the  household  through  these  perilous  straits ! 

She  was  a  success  from  the  very  beginning,  appealing  to 
the  higher  phases  of  art  for  her  triumph.  Her  wondrous 
beauty  and  grace,  and  her  sweet,  entreating  innocence  won 
hearts  that  turned  from  Mam'selle  Zelie  with  disgust. 
And  Ritchie  was  wise  in  being  chary  of  her.  She,  so  in- 
tent upon  doing  her  whole  duty  would  have  danced  every 
moment  of  the  time ;  but  the  manager  knew  better.  He 
liked  to  whet  the  appetite  of  his  audience.  They  followed 
the  programme  to  see  when  she  appeared,  and  greeted  her 
with  delight.  Bouquets  were  showered  upon  her,  and 
cards  began  to  be  sent  to  the  green-room. 

There  were  heartburnings  and  jealousies  that  this  young 
stranger  should  make  such  rapid  strides  in  public  favor ; 
but  she  bore  her  honors  so  very  meekly.  If  she  rivalled 
them  in  art  she  cared  nothing  for  their  admirers,  and  was 
pot  anxious  for  any  of  her  own. 

And  then  came  the  best  of  news  from  Miss  Madeira. 


S4S  LOST  IN  A   GREAT  CITY. 

She  was  gaining  health  and  strength  rapidly,  and  her  mind 
was  clearing.  The  doctor  had  every  reason  to  hope  for  a 
permanent  recovery,  but  he  wanted  her  to  remain  some 
time  longer  in  the  country. 

What  a  proud  and  happy  girl  Queenie  was  when  she 
began  to  pay  off  the  family  debts.  They  lived  very  fru- 
gally, and  Peggy  insisted  upon  doing  all  she  could. 
Queenie  had  her  days  for  household  matters,  always 
returning  home  at  night  as  speedily  as  possible.  And 
there  was  Tip,  punctually  on  hand,  to  guard  and  attend. 

A  great  change  had  come  over  the  youth.  No  one  but 
himself  knew  how  hard  he  was  struggling  to  emulate 
Queenie's  unconscious  heroism.  He  was  prompt  at  his 
business,  he  chose  the  simplest  of  lunches,  and  allowed 
himself  but  one  cigar  in  the  evening.  It  did  make  a  dif- 
ference, he  found.  The  true  spring  of  manliness  had  been 
touched  in  the  boy's  nature.  It  pained  and  shamed  him 
that  this  stranger  to  them,  until  so  lately,  should  be  working 
for  his  brothers  and  sisters,  and  out  of  these  pangs  grew  a 
sturdy  independence. 

The  last  of  April  Miss  Madeira  came  home.  Oh,  what 
a  joyful  festival  it  was!  Something  had  improved  her 
strangely,  they  could  hardly  guess  it  was  the  few  pounds 
of  flesh  she  had  gained.  She  was  still  very  plain,  to  be 
sure,  but  the  children  kissed  and  caressed  her,  and  to  them 
she  looked  more  than  beautiful.  They  laughed  over  her 
queer,  disconnected  sentences;  they  had  to  take  her  in 
every  room,  and  show  her  every  new  article.  The  twins 
brought  a  pile  of  broken  playthings  and  laid  them  at  her 
feet. 

"  But  how  have  you  lived  all  this  time  ?  "  she  said,  won- 
deringly,  to  Queenie.  "I  mean,  my  dear,  where  did  you 
get  any  money  ?  And  to  think  I  have  had  no  more  sense 
than  a  baby !  There  was  a  little  in  the  bank,  —  money  I 
mean,  —  and  there  ought  to  be  a  bank  of  good  sense  in  this 
world,  but  I'm  afraid  every  one  would  want  to  draw,  and 


FOB   LOVE'S  SAKE.  349 

no  one  deposit,  and  poor  brother-in-law  gone,  for  we've 
never  heard  nothing,  and  what  we're  to  do  I  don't  know  ; 
but  I  have  a  little,  and  I'm  sure  I  shan't  grudge  a  penny 
for  poor  dear  sister's  children,  looking  so  bright  and  well." 

Then  Queenie  had  to  come  to  confession.  Miss  Madeira 
listened  as  if  to  a  romance,  interrupting  with  astonished 
comments. 

"  And  now,  dear  Miss  Madeira,  you  are  not  to  worry 
about  anything.  Peggy  will  go  on  living  with  us,  to  help 
do  the  work,  and  she  declares  she  will  not  take  a  bit  of 
wages,  since  she  has  three  days  in  the  week  to  herself. 
She  has  been  so  good  to  us  all ;  I  can  never  tell  you  the 
half,  dear  auntie  Madeira,  only  I  could  not  have  lived 
without  her.  And  the  children  are  all  so  nice;  Moppet 
is  quite  a  little  woman,  and  Tip  is  just  splendid.  I  feel  as 
if  he  was  my  own  big  brother." 

Queenie  paused,  out  of  breath,  her  face  suffused  with 
a  beautiful  flush  of  tenderness. 

"  And  you  are  dancing  at  a  theatre,  —  making  all  that 
money !  My  dear,  I've  sewed  early  and  late,  and  saved 
and  pinched,  but  I  never  could  make  that  much  money  a 
week  if  I  died  for  it.  Why,  it's  wonderful !  If  a  body 
could  be  quite  sure ; "  and  she  looked  up  questioningly. 
"  There  was  the  daughter  of  Herodias  —  " 

Queenie  laughed,  and  colored  rather  sensitively.  The 
dear  old  wrinkled  face  was  so  full  of  perplexity. 

"I  think  it  is  better  that  I  should  do  this  than  that  we 
should  starve,  or  be  separated,  and  have  to  live  on  charity. 
And  though  there  are  some  girls  that  one  wouldn't  want 
to  associate  with,  there  are  others  who  seem  so  kind  and  gen- 
erous, and  who  are  working  bravely  to  take  care  of  families, 
and  it  seems  to  me  as  if  such  people  just  glorified  their  work. 
When  you  are  there,  with  the  lights,  and  the  wonderful 
music,  and  the  applause,  why,  you  feel  as  if  there  had  never 
been  anything  so  beautiful,  and  you  could  dance  on  and 
on.  And  I  always  come  straight  home.  I  don't  wait  for 


350  LOST   IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 

the  little  suppers,  and  Madame  Denzil  is  so  good.  She 
manages  that  I  shall  not  see  the  people  who  crowd  in  the 
irreeu-room  for  introductions.  If  only  Mam'selle  Zelie,  — 
out  iheri  it  might  be  too  nice." 

"  Well,  I  can't  say,  to  be  sure.  My  poor,  dear  fathel 
would  have  thought  you  on  the  high  road  to  perdition  if 
you  went  to  a  theatre.  But  you're  just  as  near  an  angel 
as  can  be,  —  there  now." 

The  thorn  in  Queenie's  life  was  Mam'selle  Zelie.  When 
she  found  this  little  girl,  unknown  and  unheralded,  was 
dancing  her  way  so  rapidly  into  public  favor,  she  hated 
her  bitterly.  The  gay,  careless  part  of  the  troop  did  not 
so  much  mind  so  long  as  Queenie  refused  herself  to  all 
admirers.  True,  they  sneered  a  little  about  it,  said  she 
set  up  for  a  saint,  and  called  her  Miss  Hightoned  Morality ; 
but  it  mattered  little  so  long  as  she  did  not  hear  it.  Miss 
Fay  would  gladly  have  drawn  her  into  her  gay  circle,  and, 
indeed,  did  one  day  inveigle  her  into  a  dainty  lunch  at  her 
own  house.  There  were  but  two  gentlemen,  Mr.  Danforth, 
Miss  Fay's  present  admirer,  and  a  Mr.  Harry  Grenville,  a 
handsome  young  southerner,  who,  after  besieging  every- 
body, right  and  left,  was  fortunate  enough  to  persuade 
Miss  Fay  to  promise  him  the  coveted  introduction. 

Mr.  Danforth,  Queenie  had  met  some  time  previous,  and 
she  recognized  in  the  stranger  a  persistent  habitue  of  the 
green-room.  The  half-terrified,  half-upbraiding,  look  she 
gave  Miss  Fay  only  provoked  a  laugh. 

"I  have  trapped  you,  my  shy  little  bird,"  she  whispered, 
mischievously,  but  Mr.  Grenville  plead  so  hard,  and  Fred 
took  pains  to  find  out  all  about  him,  and  he  is  really  unex- 
ceptionable. Now  don't  be  cross.  I  would  do  anything 
in  the  world  for  you." 

Queenie's  nature  was  so  fresh  and  sweet  that  it  would 
not  have  been  possible  to  assume  coldness,  or  appear  ungra- 
cious. Miss  Fay  set  herself  about  conquering  the  light 
frost  of  reserve,  and  she  did  it  successfully.  Her  small 


FOR   LOVE'S  SAKE.  351 

parlor  looked  its  prettiest,  adorned  with  flowers.  Miss 
Fay  possessed  a  French  woman's  art  of  adornment.  The 
curtains  were  plain  Swiss,  but  beautifully  draped,  and  a 
basket  of  colored  foliage  hanging  at  each  window.  The 
somewhat  worn  furniture  had  pretty  delicate  covers,  rather 
as  drapery  than  the  stiff  excuse  for  neatness.  A  few  well- 
chosen  pictures,  some  brackets  and  vases,  the  open  piano, 
and  a  general  air  of  comfort,  indolence,  and  pleasure,  per- 
vaded the  apartment.  Being  rather  long,  the  table  was 
daintily  set  at  the  rear  end.  After  the  first  strangeness 
of  introductions  was  over,  Mrs.  Keep  came  in  quietly,  re- 
moved the  cover,  added  a  few  dishes,  and  the  quartette 
took  their  places. 

They  were  young,  gay,  and  bright,  and  had  a  merry 
time,  as  refined  as  that  in  many  a  more  stately  mansion. 
The  jests  they  told  were  wholesome,  the  experiences  they 
compared  were  those  of  youth.  Harry  Grenville  could 
have  paid  no  greater  respect  to  the  visitors  in  his  proud 
southern  home,  under  the  eyes  of  parents  and  grandpa- 
rents. Indeed,  the  stately  old  Mrs.  Grenville  was  a  great 
stickler  for  the  courteous  etiquette  of  a  past  generation, 
and  this,  her  favorite  grandson,  had  been  raised  not  only 
in  the  elegances  of  refinement,  but  with  the  strength  and 
manliness  of  true  chivalry,  —  that  gracious  word  so  fast 
falling  into  disrepute  through  the  various  shams  that  have 
overlaid  it. 

Queenie  could  not  resist  the  kindly  atmosphere.  She 
was  at  home  in  it,  of  course ;  indeed,  it  seemed  like  a  bit 
of  her  past  life  floating  over  to  her  again.  She  warmed 
and  brightened,  grew  lovelier  with  every  word,  every 
smile,  and  Miss  Fay  gave  wise  little  nods  to  Danforth. 

Grenville  was  under  a  spell,  certainly.  He  had  indulged 
in  a  few  mild  flirtations  at  home,  but  this  was  wine  to  that 
flavorless  water.  And  he  said  to  himself  that  he  had 
never  seen  so  beautiful  a  girl.  What  witchery  ~>y  in  those 
large  brown,  velvety  eyes,  shaded  by  the  long  ^shes  of  a 


352  LOST   IN  A  GREAT   CITY. 

more  golden  hue.  The  fine,  clear  skin,  flushing  at  a 
thought,  the  dainty  chin,  the  curved  lips,  with  the  tint, 
softness,  and  fragrance  of  a  rose,  the  cloud  of  golden  hair, 
the  exquisite  grace  of  every  movement,  —  ah,  what  a  pity 
she  was  only  a  stage  dancer  1 

They  lingered  over  their  lunch  with  entertaining  conver- 
sation, and  had  just  risen  from  the  table  when  a  coupe  with 
two  stylish  gray  horses  drove  up  to  the  door. 

"  Now  we  are  to  finish  with  a  drive  in  the  park,"  an- 
nounced Danforth.  "  It  is  just  the  day,  and  we  shall  have 
the  best  of  the  sun.  Ladies,  put  on  your  wraps,  for  though 
it  is  May,  it  is  not  quite  summer." 

Queenie  demurred  a  little.  They  would  be  troubled  at 
her  long  stay  from  home. 

Miss  Fay  overruled.  Mrs.  Keep  should  run  in  and  tell 
them.  There  could  be  no  real  objection,  and  surely  she 
had  not  the  heart  to  spoil  their  day's  pleasure.  The  vacant 
space  would  throw  a  chill  over  the  party. 

Then  Miss  Fay  brought  out  a  ravishing  white  felt  hat, 
with  a  pale-blue  plume,  and  insisted  upon  Queenie's  wear- 
ing it.  The  child  looked  like  some  high-bred  princess. 
As  they  drove  through  the  winding  avenues  more  than 
one  person  turned  to  glance  at  her.  The  homage  ernbar 
rassed  her.  And  then  she  laughed  softly  to  herself.  Over 
yonder  she  had  trundled  the  twins  in  a  baby  wagon,  with 
Cissy  clinging  to  her  skirt,  and  Pug  anxious  to  get  into  a 
fight  with  any  boy  of  his  size. 

It  was  a  glorious  day ;  too  early  in  the  season  for  nature 
to  don  her  witcheries  of  bud  and  leaf,  but  there  was  a  stir- 
ring fragrance  from  the  evergreens,  and  the  long  sweeps  of 
gr;iss  had  stolen  softly  into  emerald  brightness.  How  glad 
the  world  was !  How  many  happy  faces  looked  into  hers, 
and  she  was  happy,  tool  The  dark  winter  that  had  so 
crushed  her  seemed  ages  agone.  She  was  coming  to  some- 
thing wonderful,  intangible,  and  yet  full  of  happiness.  She 
felt  it  in  every  bounding  pulse,  in  every  breath  she  drew 


FOR  LOVE'S  SAKE.  353 

Why,  it  was  delightful  just  to  live !  Ah,  how  she  should 
dance  to-night,  after  having  had  this  entrancing  day. 

It  was  almost  dusk  when  they  reached  home.  Queenie 
ran  up-stairs  to  change  her  hat. 

"  If  I  wasn't  the  best-natured  girl  in  the  world  I  should 
be  jealous,"  laughed  Florence,  gayly.  "  Every  one  has 
stared  at  you  as  if  you  were  a  new  specimen  of  woman- 
kind, and  I  don't  wonder.  You  are  as  lovely  as  a  picture ! 
If  I  had  your  beauty  —  " 

She  had  heard  it  nearly  all  her  life.  Even  simple  and 
strait-laced  Miss  Madeira  paid  homage  to  it  with  fear  and 
trembling.  It  was  so  plain  a  fact  that  it  touched  her  no 
more  than  if  any  one  had  said,  "  Your  eyes  are  brown,"  or 
"your  hair  is  gold." 

"  Well,  what  then  ?  "  she  questioned,  eagerly. 

"  Why,  I'd  make  as  great  a  stir  in  the  world  as  some  of 
those  famous  women  of  history,  or  legend,  or  society. 
Why,  you  could  set  yourself  up  as  a  little  queen,  not  tak- 
ing in  the  rank  and  file  as  Mam'selle  Zelie,"  and  Miss  Fay 
gave  a  scornful  smile,  "  but  the  higher  class.  You  could 
have  rides  and  suppers  and  little  fetes,  and  make  yourself 
of  so  much  importance  that  managers  would  be  bidding  for 
you.  I'd  not  stay  out  of  sight,  as  a  modest  daisy.  And 
you  can  see  for  yourself  that  Grenville  is  quite  gone  over 
the  bay,  lost  his  head.  He's  been  badgering  every  one  for 
a  chance  to  see  you.  Denzil  is  a  capital  dragon,  though  I 
wonder  she  hasn't  insisted  on  your  coming  to  her.  And 
ehe  has  no  end  of  fun;  but  she's  older,  and  married,  and 
has  more  license.  And  I'm  on  the  lookout  for  a  good 
chance  to  marry,  or  I  should  sail  in." 

"I  must  go !"  and  Queenie  ran  away  with  glowing  cheeks. 
Why  should  there  be  any  such  thing  as  love  and  marriage, 
while  the  world  was  so  fresh  and  sweet?  And  why 
should  one  think  of  selfish  gifts  and  gains,  and  value 
.friends  for  what  they  brought? 

The  children  clung  around  her  with  a  clamor  that  would 
22 


354  LOST  IN  A   GREAT  CITY. 

have  been  deafening  to  any  one  else,  and  surely  startle^ 
fastidious  Harry  Grenville.  Where  had  she  staid  all  the 
long  afternoon  ?  Cissy  would  never  like  Miss  Fay  again, 
never ;  —  not  even  if  she  brought  her  loads  and  loads  of 
candy,  and  a  splendid  wax  doll  with  real  hair  I  For  she 
had  no  business  to  keep  Queenie  so  long,  and  Queenie 
never  staid  home  with  them  now,  and  — 

But  Queenie  was  telling  Miss  Madeira  about  the  lovely 
drive,  when  Moppet  cried  out,  — 

"  Oh,  I  saw  you !  I  saw  you !  And  you  had  on  Miss  Fay's 
beautiful  white  hat,  and  you  looked  magnificent !  I  was  out 
on  the  avenue  buying  a  spool  of  silk  for  auntie  Madeira,  and 
you  flashed  by.  I  knew  Miss  Fay,  but  oh,  wasn't  it  funny  that 
I  didn't  know  you  ?  Dear  Queenie,  won't  you  buy  a  white 
hat  with  blue  velvet  and  a  beautiful  blue  feather,  and  — " 

"  Let  me  eat  a  little  mouthful  of  supper,  and  then  I  must 
be  off  Have  you  all  been  good  children,  and  not  worried 
auntie  Madeira  ?  Yes,  Polly,  I  won't  forget  to  kiss  you, 
and  you  shall  have  the  wagon  some  day — "when  the 
debts  are  all  paid,  she  was  about  to  add,  but  checked  her- 
self. 

It  seemed  as  if  the  little  crew  would  never  get  done 
kissing  her.  She  was  seldom  impatient  with  them,  though 
sometimes  their  caresses  had  to  be  shortened.  Tip  was 
never  home  early  enough  to  see  her  to  the  theatre,  but  she 
often  went  with  Miss  Fay,  as  she  had  engaged  to,  this 
evening. 

The  children  had  been  rendered  wildly  happy  by  the  in- 
dulgence of  a  matinee,  and  now  Cissy's  great  ambition  was 
to  have  a  lovely  dress,  and  dance  on  the  stage,  just  like 
Queenie.  Miss  Madeira  shook  her  head  gravely. 

Were  they  all  to  go  on,  and  be  dependent  upon  Queen- 
ie's  exertions  for  their  chief  support  ?  She  often  thought 
it  over.  Would  she  dare  begin  dress-making  in  a  great 
city,  where  style  and  fashion  overwhelmed  one  ?  And  the 
pittance  she  could  earn,  even  with  Queenie's  assistance, 


FOB  LOVE'8  SAKE.  355 

would  be  so  small.  There  was  her  little  cottage  in  the 
country,  but  if  they  went  thither  Tip  must  be  left  alone  to 
struggle  with  the  temptations  that  beset  homeless  youths. 
Could  she  even  take  care  of  the  others,  then  ?  and  the  poor 
woman  would  shake  her  head  slowly. 

Tip  and  she  used  to  talk  it  over  sometimes.  The  big 
boy  was  getting  to  be  such  a  comfort  to  her,  so  thoughtful 
and  sensible.  He  had  improved  so  much  that  his  employ- 
ers had  raised  his  wages  a  dollar  a  week ;  but  what  was 
eight  dollars  to  that  great  crowd  1  And  so  they  went  on, 
trying  to  be  hopeful. 

There  had  been  some  talk  of  changing  the  play,  but  the 
house  was  still  crowded,  and  the  manager  making  money. 
But  Queenie  knew,  in  any  event,  she  would  not  want  for 
an  engagement.  She  did  not  trouble  herself  about  the  fu- 
ture, but  just  lived  in  her  art  and  in  the  present. 

Queenie  found,  in  making  that  one  exception  to  her 
strict  seclusion,  she  had  opened  the  door  to  numerous  invi- 
tations. 

"Though  I  really  don't  see  why  you  should  make  such  a 
nun  of  yourself,"  said  Dolly  Denzil.  "  If  you  adopt  the 
stage  as  a  profession,  and  you  can  make  money  no  other 
way  as  easily,  you  can  hardly  help  coming  in  contact  with 
your  fellow-creatures.  Your  youth  and  inexperience 
shield  you  a  good  deal  here,  but  it  is  bad  in  another  way. 
It  makes  enemies  for  you.  Women  begin  to  hate  the 
one  who  seems  to  stand  on  a  higher  pedestal  of  goodness 
than  the  others.  Not  that  I  should  want  you  to  go  down 
to  Zelie's  level,"  with  a  scornful  shrug.  "  And  yet,  in  her 
world,  she  is  a  success.  She  lives  elegantly,  has  a  carriage 
at  her  command,  shines  in  jewels  and  satins,  and  will,  no 
doubt,  lay  up  a  snug  sum  of  money  for  old  age,  unless  mat- 
rimony overtakes  her.  She  is  shrewd  and  keen  under  that 
loud,  lawless  exterior." 

Queenie  shivered  a  little.  She  had  felt  the  stings  of 
enmity. 


356  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

"  She  won't  ask  you  to  join  her  circle,  never  fear.  Such 
women  cannot  tolerate  a  rival  in  society,  nor  in  their 
pleasures,"  laughed  Madame  Denzil.  "  And  the  farther 
you  keep  away  from  them  the  better  it  will  be  for  you. 
But  you  might  come  to  me  now  and  then  without  a  fear. 
I  should  have  the  same  care  for  you  that  a  mother  would. 
And  some  of  my  friends  are  dying  to  see  you,  as  well.  Let 
me  see ;  I  think  you  must  come  to  my  next  little  supper. 
You  may  be  sure  of  meeting  none  but  nice  people.  And 
-i*  Pet  makes  love  to  you,  laugh  at  him.  He  has  an  idea 
that  his  destiny  in  the  world  is  to  be  continually  making 
love  to  some  woman." 

A  few  evenings  later  Madame  Denzil  announced  that 
Queenie  was  to  go  home  with  her  immediately  after  the 
play. 

"  You  had  better  remain  all  night  with  me,  I  think,  un- 
less you  would  much  prefer  returning  home,"  she  said. 

"  Oh,  I  should,  dear  Madame  Denzil !  They  would  all 
feel  worried,  I  know.  And  —  my  brother  will  come  for 
me." 

"  Don't  call  that  great  stupid  boy  your  brother,  when 
you  know  he  isn't !  No,  I  shall  send  you  home  in  a  hack. 
Don't  look  so  frightened,  as  if  you  were  going  to  be  hung ! 
You  really  must  get  this  bashfulness  rubbed  out  of  you  a 
Jittle.  It's  odd  that  you  shouldn't  mind  a  great  theatre 
full,  and  that  one  or  two  people  can  put  you  in  a  tremor." 

Madame  Denzil  laughed  gaily,  and  pinched  the  rosy 
cheek,  so  exquisitely  soft  and  clear. 

"  But  the  crowd  is  always  so  far  oflj"  she  made  answer. 
"  You  seem  safe  from  them." 

"  And  yet  the  people  near  by  seldom  eat  you  up.  They 
like  pates  and  meringues  better.  What  have  you  in  the  way 
of  dress  ?  Nothing,  I'll  be  bound.  How  funny  that  you 
should  be  working  for  people  who  are  no  kin  to  you !  " 

"  But  Miss  Madeira  was  so  good  to  me,"  was  the  grate- 
ful reply.  "  And  they  need  me." 


FOB  LOVE'S  SAKE.  357 

"  Pooh,  child !  I  would  have  been  as  good  again  if  you 
foad  fallen  into  my  hands.  Queenie,  I  wish  now  that  I  could 
adopt  you,  and  order  all  your  ways.  I  would  be  better  to 
you  than  that  fool  of  a  Madame  Barretti.  Come.  Why 
not  leave  this  raft  of  poverty-stricken  young  ones  —  " 

"Oh,  Madame  Denzil,  I  couldn't,  indeed  I  couldn't," 
and  Queenie's  eyes  filled  with  tears. 

"  There,  you  little  goose,  do  not  cry  about  it !  But  you 
know  there  are  other  people  in  the  world  who  would  be 
glad  to  have  you.  I  sometimes  wish  for  a  daughter  of  my 
own,  —  never  a  son,  men  are  such  humbugs  !  If  it  wasn't 
for  the  troublesome,  idiotic  babyhood,  and  the  risk  of  not 
having  her  handsome.  So,  Queenie  dear,  you'll  know 
where  to  find  your  next  mother  when  you  want  one." 

Queenie  kissed  her  tenderly. 

"  And  now  about  the  dress.  A  pretty,  light-blue  silk, 
for  you  are  a  young  lady,  although  it  seems  difficult  for 
you  to  believe  the  fact.  And  I  can't  have  you  giving  up 
every  penny  and  going  in  hodden  gray." 

Queenie  trembled  at  the  expense.  Her  new  month's 
pay  would  take  them  all  out  of  debt  except  the  rent,  get 
the  children  some  clothes,  refill  the  barrel  of  flour,  and  re- 
plenish the  coal.  How  could  she  take  so  much  for  herself! 

"  I  had  something  in  my  mind,"  Madame  Denzil  ex- 
plained, a  day  or  two  after.  "  I  have  a  friend  who  is  going 
in  mourning,  and  who  will  dispose  of  her  wardrobe  for  a 
mere  song.  There  is  just  the  dress  you  want,  and  it  will 
not  need  much  alteration.  No,  I  won't  hear  a  word.  You 
are  to  come  and  spend  the  day  with  me,  and  have  it  done." 

It  would  be  ungracious  to  refuse,  and  it  certainly  would 
be  unwise  to  vex  so  good  a  friend.  So  she  yielded  to 
Madame  DenziPs  imperious  sway,  and  acquiesced  in  her 
arrangements  for  the  supper.  And  that,  Queenie  was 
forced  to  confess,  was  absolutely  charming.  There  were 
but  a  dozen  guests.  The  drawing-room  was  a  study  in 
itself,  quaint  and  Bohemianish,  with  luxurious  chairs,  pic- 


358  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

tares,  statuettes,  bits  of  old  china  and  bric-a-brac.  And 
the  supper-room  was  just  perfect  with  its  glass  and  silver, 
its  flowers  and  lights.  There  was  a  refinement  and  ele- 
gance, and  also  a  brightness  of  wit  and  intellect,  that  had 
been  quite  beyond  Kate  Bridget's  reach,  something  that 
money  rarely  buys. 

It  was  a  glimpse  of  the  life  that  Queenie  was  fitted  to 
enjoy  with  a  very  thorough  zest.  How  had  it  come  ? 
she  asked  herself.  She  listened  to  the  gay  repartees,  the 
bits  of  wit  and  wisdom,  saw  the  play  of  the  lights  and 
the  dazzle  of  the  silver,  and  breathed  the  fragrance  of  the 
flowers.  It  was  like  poems  she  had  read.  Or  had  she 
seen  it  all  in  some  pre-existent  state  ?  And  she  wondered 
now  about  her  parents ;  had  they  been  poor,  or  was  there 
something  in  that  early  life  that  left  its  impress  ? 

Mr.  Grenville  had  succeeded  in  obtaining  an  invitation, 
and  was  devoted  to  the  beautiful  girl.  Indeed  his  infatu- 
ation was  no  secret  at  Palace  Garden.  But  she  managed 
to  dispense  her  attention  with  such  a  gracious  equality 
that  no  one  could  feel  hurt.  However,  Mr.  Grenville  had 
the  delight  of  attending  her  home,  which  made  amends  for 
the  smiles  bestowed  upon  others,  and  was  to  him  the  most 
exquisite  pleasure. 

"  Read  this !  "  exclaimed  Madame  Denzil  the  next  even- 
ing. "  L is  considered  a  very  elegant  theatrical  critic, 

and  this  must  be  pure  admiration.  I  wanted  him  to  see 
you,  but  I  had  hardly  dreamed  of  such  a  result." 

Queenie  read  it  with  glowing  eyes.  A  most  delicate 
tribute  to  the  charms  of  Mademoiselle  Zanfretti,  to  her 
marvellous  stage-power,  the  exquisite  perfection  of  her  art, 
her  modesty  and  childlike  innocence,  and  predicting  a  bril- 
liant future  for  her. 

Madame  Denzil  nodded  her  head  confidently. 

"  You  are  making  a  reputation  rapidly,"  she  began.  "  1 
do  not  suppose  this  '  Enchanted  Princess '  will  last  forever, 
though  Ritchie  means  to  finish  out  the  season  with  it. 


FOB  LOVE'S  SAKE.  359 

Then  you  will  want  a  new  engagement,  and  every  little 
thing  helps.  Are  you  going  to  be  just  absurd  enough  to 
cling  to  these  Mullins  people  all  your  life  ?  " 

"  How  can  I  leave  them,  now  —  " 

"  You  have  the  most  ridiculous  conscience  that  I  ever 
saw,  child !  I  hope  some  day  they  will  all  be  able  to  take 
care  of  themselves,  though  if  you  are  going  to  waste  your 
youth  this  way  I  hope  some  handsome  young  fellow  suc- 
ceeds in  captivating  you.  Anyhow,  I  mean  you  shall  have 
a  fair  chance." 

It  was  a  perilous  path  that  opened  before  Queenie.  Her 
youth,  her  capacity  for  enjoyment,  her  strange,  changeful 
past  that,  in  the  nature  of  events,  could  erect  no  barrier 
save  the  purity  of  her  own  soul,  the  violent  sundering  of 
ties,  and  their  arbitrary  replacement,  were  illy  calculated 
to  develop  a  symmetrical  character. 

Could  she  even  stem  the  treacherous  tide?  What  if 
her  little  bark  grounded  on  the  bars  and  shallows  of  the 
shining  stream,  or,  striking  some  rock,  should  go  down 
suddenly? 

Yet  her  aim  gave  her  a  high  and  noble  courage.  For 
them  she  was  to  strive.  For  them  she  was  to  shun  dan- 
gers and  allurements,  lest  she  might  bring  disgrace  on  her 
good  work.  A  household  strangely  stricken,  yet,  through 
her  endeavors,  scarcely  feeling  their  loss. 


360  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CUT. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

THISTLES  THAT  BEOUGHT  FORTH  GRAPES. 

IT  was  the  last  week  of  the  "  Enchanted  Princess."  Lent 
had  fallen  earlier  than  usual,  and  it  seemed  as  if,  after 
Easter,  the  city  had  taken  a  new  lease  of  gayeties.  Hotels 
had  been  thronged  with  people  coming  and  going,  suites 
of  rooms  had  been  kept  until  the  very  commencement  of 
summer,  a  late  opera  season  had  flourished,  a  remarkable 
tragedienne  had  been  presented,  but  through  it  all  the  gor- 
geous scenes  and  fascinating  ballet  had  held  its  own. 

It  is  true  there  had  been  some  difficulties  of  manage- 
ment. Once,  indeed,  Mam'selle  Zelie  had  stirred  up  such 
a  disaffection  that  the  play  actually  quivered  in  the  balance. 
The  real  cause  had  been  Queenie's  appointment  to  sing  a 
little  song,  that  was  rapturously  encored.  Some  one  dis- 
covered her  beautiful  voice,  and  Ritchie  was  glad  to  make 
the  most  of  it. 

Party  spirit  ran  high,  and  party  lines  were  sharply  drawn. 
Matter*  were  compromised  somewhat  by  a  promise  of  ben- 
efits, that  were  wisely  appointed  for  the  last  week. 

Queenie  had  declined  making  any  engagement  for  the 
summer,  partly  by  Madame  Denzil's  advice,  and  partly  on 
account  of  Miss  Madeira's  pleading.  They  were  out  of 
debt,  and  had  a  little  money,  and  Queenie  was  beginning 
to  show  her  work.  There  had  been  more  dissipation  lat- 
terly, invitations  that  she  hardly  dared  refuse,  though,  with 
the  utmost  carefulness,  she  had  made  enemies  by  her  very 
exclusiveness,  and  none  more  bitter  than  Mnm'selle  Zelie. 

Among  the  habitues  of  the  green-room  Queenie  had  onn 


THISTLES  THAT   BROUGHT   FORTH   GRAPES.          361 

evening  recognized  Archibald  Winstead,  with  extreme  ter- 
ror. Fortunately  all  remembrance  of  his  mother's  little 
handmaiden  had  passed  from  his  mind.  Two  events  had 
recently  befallen  him  of  much  greater  importance  than 
any  old  memory.  He  had  been  expelled  from  college,  to 
the  great  grief  of  his  mother,  and  he  had  come  in  pos- 
session of  a  fortune,  bestowed  upon  him  by  an  unwise 
maiden  aunt,  who  might  better  have  left  it  to  his  sister. 
Mrs.  Winstead  had  aspired  to  the  management  of  it,  but 
the  young  man  shook  her  off  coolly,  and  went  his  way 
after  the  fashion  of  prodigals.  Mademoiselle  Zelie  tol- 
erated him,  and  accepted  his  presents,  of  which  he  was 
rather  lavish,  while  Queenie  repulsed  the  slightest  over- 
tures for  an  acquaintance.  Indeed,  she  confined  herself 
so  closely  to  Madame  Denzil's  dressing-room,  which  being 
small  was  left  mostly  to  that  personage,  that  very  few 
were  able  to  gain  a  moment's  chat  with  her.  Then  she 
had  a  trick  of  slipping  out  so  quietly,  under  Tip's  pro- 
tection, that  she  was  often  gone  before  Miss  Fay  was 
aware.  Indeed,  they  seldom  went  home  together,  for  Miss 
Fay  delighted  in  little  suppers  and  a  crowd  of  admirers. 

Monday  evening  proved  quite  an  ovation.  Queenie  dis- 
appeared in  the  midst  of  the  confusion,  and  with  faithful 
Tip  wended  her  way  homeward.  Miss  Madeira  was  wait- 
ing for  her,  and  kissed  the  tender,  flushed  face.  Queenie 
threw  herself  on  the  sofa  with  a  tired  air. 

"  I  am  so  glad  you  are  going  to  have  a  little  rest,"  said 
Miss  Madeira.  "  You  ought  to  go  to  the  country.  Mrs. 
Wardlow  and  Hetty  would  be  so  glad  to  take  you  in,  and 
there's  Mrs.  Burgess  ;  but  I  should  miss  you  so,  and  yet  I 
wouldn't  be  selfish." 

u  The  idea  of  auntie  Madeira  being  selfish  1 "  laughed 
Queenie. 

"  You  are  as  good  as  gold,  that's  what  you  are ! "  de- 
clared Tip,  enthusiastically.  "You  and  Queenie  might 
just  have  stepped  out  of  a  story-book." 


362  LOST  IN   A  GREAT  CITY. 

«  Hark,  what  is  that  1 " 

The  sound  of  a  carriage  stopping,  and  an  authoritative 
ring  at  the  door.  Tip  answered  it. 

"  Here's  a  note  for  you,  Queenie,  and  the  man  is  to  wait 
for  an  answer.  He  asked  for  Miss  Barretti,"  said  Tip. 

Queenie  opened  it  wonderingly,  and  glanced  over  its 
contents. 

"Why,  how  odd,"  she  began.  ttlt  is  from  Madame 
Denzil,  and  she  wants  me  to  come  immediately  —  to  a  lit- 
tle party.  The  carriage  is  to  take  me,  and  will  bring  me 
home,  and  I  am  to  wear  my  prettiest  dress :  *  come  in  full 
dress,'  she  says,  *  and  make  myself  look  as  pretty  as  pos- 
sible.' I  wonder  why  she  did  not  tell  me?  It  must  have 
been  an  afterthought." 

"  But  you  won't  go,"  observed  Miss  Madeira. 

"  It  must  be  something  especial  for  her  to  send  in  this 
manner.  I  am  too  tired,  really,  but  I  should  be  sorry  to 
disappoint  her.  And  the  carriage  was  to.  wait ! " 

"Why,  I  would  go,"  said  Tip.  "Why  shouldn't  you 
have  your  share  in  the  nice  things  ?  She  must  want  you 
very  much  or  she  would  not  have  sent." 

"  And  she  has  been  so  kind ! "  Queenie  gave  a  little 
sigh  from  fatigue,  then  she  roused  herself  immediately.  It 
would  not  take  her  swift  fingers  long  to  change  her  attire 
and  brush  out  her  beautiful  hair. 

"  Yes,"  she  continued,  "  I  had  better  go." 

The  slight  languor  enhanced  her  beauty.  She  was  in- 
nocently proud  of  herself  in  her  pretty  blue  silk,  with  its 
soft  laces,  the  Pompadour  neck  displaying  her  lovely  white 
throat.  Taking  some  white  roses  out  of  a  bouquet,  she 
caught  up  part  of  her  golden  hair  and  fastened  in  the  clus- 
ter. Ah,  what  a  picture  of  radiant,  entrancing  girlhood  ! 

"  Had  I  better  go  with  you  ?  "  asked  Tip. 

"  It  is  hardly  worth  while,"  she  said,  after  a  moment's 
consideration.  "You  would  have  the  long  walk  home 
alone.  Good-night,  auntie  Madeira.  Go  straight  to  bed." 


THISTLES  THAT  BROUGHT   FORTH   GRAPES.          363 

u  I'll  take  a  doze  on  the  sofa  until  you  come  back.  Ob, 
Queenie,  bow  beautiful  you  are !  I  hate  to  let  you  go.  I 
envy  those  people  who  can  look  at  you  and  talk  to  you." 

She  stooped  and  gave  him  a  kiss,  and  then  fluttered  out 
to  the  carnage.  The  clocks  and  bells  were  striking  for 
midnight.  She  stepped  in,  the  door  was  snapped  with  a 
click,  the  driver  sprang  on  his  seat,  and  rattled  away. 
Then  she  thought  how  very  strange  it  was.  But  they 
clattered  through  the  deserted  streets,  and  the  jolting  vehi- 
cle seemed  to  scatter  her  thoughts.  Indeed,  they  were  all 
chaos  when  she  was  handed  out,  and  led  to  the  foot  of  a 
strange,  broad  stair-case. 

"  Madame  Denzil  ?  "  she  questioned,  anxiously,  surprised 
at  the  unfamiliar  aspect. 

A  waiter  in  a  white  jacket  escorted  her  np-stairs  to  a 
dressing-room,  where  a  sleepy  looking  French  maid  sat  in 
attendance.  Queenie  threw  of  her  wrappings,  drew  on  her 
gloves,  wondering  as  she  followed  the  waiter  across  a  hall. 
As  be  opened  the  door  a  glare  of  light  dazzled  her. 

"  Miss  Barretti,"  he  announced. 

She  stood  motionless,  breathless.  The  great  chandelier 
over  the  table  showed  a  group  of  strange  faces  the  first 
instant.  Four  women  among  them,  as  many  again  of  the 
opposite  sex.  There  was  Mademoiselle  Zelie  resplendent 
in  garnet  velvet  and  diamonds,  her  white  bare  shoulders 
gleaming,  and  her  round,  bare  arms  loaded  with  bracelets. 
And  there  was  Rose  De  Luce,  about  whom  a  scandal  was 
openly  circulated.  Where  was  Madame  Denzil ! 

All  eyes  were  turned  toward  the  lovely  apparition.  She 
was  so  transfixed  with  a  slow,  dawning  sense  of  mistake, 
and  a  terror  creeping  over  her  made  her  lips  seem  dry  and 
constricted,  her  tongue  dumb. 

Mam'selle  Zelie  gave  a  loud  laugh,  and  let  her  great, 
cruel  black  eyes  wander  around  the  table. 

"  Gentlemen,"  she  said,  mockingly,  "  to  which  one  of 
you  are  we  indebted  for  this  surprise?  Miss  Barretti's 


S64  LOST   IN   A    GKEAT    CITY. 

exclusiveness  is  too  well  known  to  suppose  for  a  moment 
that  she  appears  here  at  midnight,  unattended,  an  unin- 
vited guest." 

The  young  girl's  face  was  crimson,  and  every  limb  trem- 
bled as  if  she  would  have  fallen. 

"  Madame  Denzil "  —  she  stammered. 

"  Madame  Denzil  would  hardly  be  likely  to  attend  a.  petit 
souper  given  in  my  honor,"  was  the  reply,  with  a  scornful 
laugh.  "Neither  would  she  be  invited,  I  am  happy  to 
say." 

The  soft  eyes  dilated  with  apprehension,  and  the  pale 
lips  quivered  without  a  sound.  Then  with  a  great  effort 
she  cried,  wildly  — 

"There  is  some  mistake!  I  was  sent  for  by  Madame 
Denzil.  The  driver  brought  me  here — "  and  she  paused 
in  a  strange  whirl,  confused  beyond  belief. 

One  of  the  guests  rose  courteously : 

"  Since  you  are  here  you  will  be  persuaded  to  remain 
and  grace  our  banquet  with  your  presence.  Mam'selle 
Zelie,  come  to  my  aid  with  your  eloquence." 

"  Of  course  she  will  remain,"  was  the  mocking  answer. 
"  Midnight  revels  are  pretty  much  the  same,  and  you  can 
imagine  it  at  your  Madame  Denzil's.  Gentlemen,  make 
room  for  the  pretty  prude  of  the  ballet,  who  assumes  the 
shyness  of  the  violet,  but  in  whom  you  will  no  doubt  find 
the  ripeness  of  the  peach,  the  richness  of  the  rose." 

There  was  a  dainty  burst  of  applause,  mingled  with  con- 
fusion. Several  gentlemen  sprang  up,  and  now  the  young 
girl  saw  one  face  that  was  not  quite  a  stranger,  yet  so  hate- 
fi  jly  familiar  that  she  drew  back  in  desperate  terror,  and 
springing  frantically  to  the  door,  fled  to  the  dressing-room. 

Archie  Winstead  followed  her,  and  remained  standing 
at  the  door. 

What  had  happened  Queenie  could  not  understand  or 
make  plain  in  any  degree.  That  she  had  gone  wrong 
some  way  —  yet  the  hack-driver  had  not  shown  th« 


THISTLES  THAT  BROUGHT  FORTH  GRAPES.     36£ 

slightest  hesitation,  the  waiter  had  seemed  to  be  expecting 
her  —  oh,  what  was  it  ?  How  had  it  come  about  ? 

She  hurried  on  her  wrappings  with  trembling  hands,  and 
bounded  to  the  door  like  a  frightened  fawn.  Her  face  was 
ashen  pale,  her  soft  eyes  wild  and  startling. 

"  You  will  not  go  home  alone  this  time  of  night  unat- 
tended, surely  ?  It  is  a  very  singular  rencontre,  but  your 
friend  will  no  doubt  be  able  to  explain  it  all.  Allow  me  —  " 

Whom  could  she  trust  ?  She  tried  to  collect  her  shocked 
and  scattered  senses.  Every  thought  shrank  in  repulsion 
from  this  young  man.  Yet  she  was  in  a  desperate  strait. 

"Could  you  —  find  a  hack?"  and  her  voice  was  strained 
and  hoarse  with  alarm. 

"  I  might  —  yes.  Remain  here  a  moment.  Nay,  do  not 
be  alarmed.  You  look  as  if  you  would  faint." 

"I  shall  not  faint,"  she  replied  haughtily,  drawing  away 
her  hand.  u  Will  you  see,  or  shall  I  apply  to  a  police- 
man?" 

He  disappeared,  and  she  stood  just  within  the  door,  her 
heart  beating  in  great  frightened  bounds.  Past  midnight 
—  worse  than  alone,  for  she  knew  not  whom  to  trust,  nor 
what  lay  before  her.  Where  was  she  ?  Would  it  be  of 
any  avail  to  ask  the  stupid  maid  ?  Oh,  if  dear  Tip  were 
but  here,  with  his  rough,  boyish  bravery. 

She  heard  the  laughter  from  the  room  opposite,  and  her 
cheek  burned  with  unwonted  shame.  Was  she  the  subject 
of  their  jest?  Ah,  it  was  well  she  did  not  hear  the  cruel, 
shameful  insinuations  of  Mam'selle  Zelie,  that  it  might  be 
but  a  cunningly  devised  plot  between  Winstead  and  t»/e 
pretty  dancer,  springing  from  pique  and  jealousy  on  her 
part.  Little  did  she,  or  even  they,  guess  that  Mam'selle  had 
been  playing  into  Winstead's  hands,  with  a  touch  of  her 
own  secret  malice. 

"  I  have  found  a  carriage,"  was  the  announcement  barely 
whispered  in  Queenie's  ear.  "Allow  me  to  conduct  you 
to  it." 


866  LOST   IN  A   GREAT   CITY. 

She  went  hesitatingly  down-stairs.  There  stood  a  ve- 
hicle. 

"lam  much  obliged,"  she  faltered.  "Believe  that  thia 
has  been  some  terrible  mistake,  and  accept  my  warmest 
thanks.  Good-night." 

She  sprang  in  thinking  she  had  dismissed  him.  He  said 
a  word  or  two  to  the  driver,  and  then,  before  he  was  fairly 
in,  they  had  started. 

Her  former  terror  returned  a  hundred  fold.  Her  first 
impulse  was  to  utter  a  wild  scream,  but  she  restrained  her- 
self with  a  great  effort. 

"  It  was  not  worth  while  for  you  to  leave  your  party,** 
she  exclaimed  coldly. 

He  had  been  drinking  freely ;  indeed,  Archie  Winstead 
had  been  leading  a  most  irregular  and  lawless  life  for  the 
past  three  months.  He  had  fancied,  and  still  did  for  that 
matter,  that  money  was  the  great  motive  power  in  pleasure, 
at  least.  It  had  brought  him  the  smiles  and  society  of 
pretty  girls.  He  had  been  a  good  deal  piqued  by  the  stu- 
dious coldness  of  this  one,  but  now  he  had  a  fair  field,  and 
meant  to  take  advantage  of  it. 

"  My  adorable  girl,"  he  made  answer,"  do  you  suppose 
anything  could  be  a  substitute  for  your  society  ?  You  are 
so  coy  and  shy  —  "  and  he  grasped  her  small  hand,  while 
his  hot  breath  seemed  to  scorch  her. 

"  How  daime  you ! "  she  cried  angrily. 

"  Don't  be  so  tempestuous,  my  pretty  one !  After  watch- 
ing and  waiting  so  long,  kindly  fate  has  at  last  thrown  this 
opportunity  in  my  way.  I  should  be  a  fool  to  let  it  slip ! " 

In  his  estimation  a  dancer  was  public  property,  and  a  fair 
prey  at  all  times.  Some  other  would  clasp  this  pretty, 
slender,  shrinking  form  to  his  breast,  some  other  would  kiss 
the  fragrant  lips.  Nay,  had  not  Zelie  sneered  at  the 
purity  of  this  lovely  girl  as  a  convenient  masque,  to  be  put 
off  and  on  as  the  whim  seized  one! 

An  unutterable  loathing  and  horror   sped  through  her 


fHISTLES   THAT   BROUGHT   FORTH    GRAPES.  367 

ftignt  frame,  and  her  small  hand  clinched  itself,  as  if  but 
waiting  to  strike  a  blow.  She  felt  his  breath  warm  upon 
her  cheek,  with  its  lingering  fragrance  of  wine ;  she  saw 
his  dull  eyes  aglow  with  fierce,  selfish  desires.  She  was 
alone  here  with  him.  Was  there  no  escape  ?  Better  the 
street  and  the  tender  mercy  of  some  stranger,  if  no  police- 
man were  at  hand. 

Suddenly  every  sense  woke  to  a  startling  acuteness. 
She  pushed  away  the  face  so  heated  with  revelry,  and  the 
madness  of  what  he  would  have  profaned  by  love's  name; 
she  shrank  into  the  corner,  while  outside  she  slipped  her 
arm,  unseen  by  his  eyes. 

Where  was  the  knob  of  the  carriage-door?  and  she  felt 
with  frantic  eagerness. 

He  leaned  over  with  hateful  words,  ready  to  seize  and 
half  stifle  her  if  she  dared  to  scream,  longing,  yet  hardly 
daring  to  snatch  a  kiss  from  the  quivering  lips. 

A  sudden  wrench,  with  almost  superhuman  strength,  and 
the  carriage-door  flew  open.  They  were  passing  a  dimly 
lighted,  quiet  hotel,  and  the  driver  half  turned  to  avoid 
another  venicle.  She  would  have  sprung  out  at  full  speed, 
so  wrought  up  was  every  nerve,  but  this  moment's  halt 
was  auspicious.  Out  she  flew  with  a  wild  cry,  half  stum- 
bling at  the  feet  of  the  other  midnight  traveller. 

"  Good  Heavens ! " 

She  righted  herself,  gathered  up  her  robes,  and  turned 
toward  him  her  beautiful,  imploring  face. 

"Do  you  know  if  I  could  find  an  officer — " 

Winstead  was  beside  her,  his  hand  upon  her  arm. 

"This  lady  is  —  " 

"I  know  the  lady  very  well;"  and  Harry  Grenville's 
voice  rang  out  clear  and  sharp.  "  She  is  entitled  to  my 
utmost  courtesy  and  assistance.  What!  Winstead  —  " 

Archie  Winstead  slunk  away  muttering  an  oath,  but  he 
could  have  murdered  his  rival. 

"Oh,  Mr.   Grenville!"  Queenie   cried,  "did  God  send 


368  LOST   IN   A    GREAT   CITY. 

you  to  me  in  my  peril  ?     It  is  all  so  strange.     Mr.  Wiiv 
stead  has  been  drinking,  and  —  " 

"  The  dastardly  scoundrel !  You  should  not  have  trusted 
yourself  to  him  an  instant.  But  fool  and  braggart  as  he 
is  I  hardly  thought  him  capable  of  such  disrespect  to  a 
lady.  And  now —  will  you  allow  me  to  escort  you  home  ?  " 

"I  shall  be  so  thankful,"  she  returned,  tremulously. 

"Will  you  take  my  coach?  I  had  just  returned  from  a 
dinner-party." 

"Is  it  far?  Where  are  we?  I  think  I  would  rather 
walk ; "  and  she  shuddered  at  the  sight  of  the  coach. 

*'  No,  not  very  far.  Are  you  clad  warmly  enough.  Yes, 
you  had  better  ride  —  in  this  attire,  too.  If  you  would 
rather,  I  will  send  you  alone ;  but  it  would  be  a  sore  dis- 
appointment to  me." 

"  If  it  is  not  too  much  trouble, "  —  she  said,  hesitatingly, 
—  "if,  indeed,  you  would  not  mind  going." 

"Mind  it!  You  could  not  give  me  a  greater  pleasure;" 
and  the  frank,  earnest  face  glowed  with  delight. 

Then  he  assisted  her  in,  and  they  drove  through  the 
deserted  streets. 

"I  ought  to  make  some  explanation."  she  began. 

"You  need  not,  to  me,  unless  you  desire  it.  The  fact  of 
Winstead's  behaving  so  like  a  scoundrel  is  sufficient  apol- 
ogy for  your  preferring  a  stranger  instead.  But  it  was  not 
a  stranger,  thank  Heaven.  Oh,  Queenie!"  he  cried,  sud- 
denly, with  a  change  of  voice  that  terrified  her  again — "if 
you  would  only  give  me  the  right  to  watch  over  you  and 
guard  you!  You  are  too  young  and  beautiful  for  the 
perils  of  stage-life,  and  —  I  love  you!  I  have  loved  you 
since  that  day  I  first  saw  you  at  Miss  Fay's,  nay,  before, 
even.  I  have  watched  you  night  after  night,  and  envied 
those  who  surrounded  you,  who  might  touch  your  hand 
and  glance  into  your  eyes.  You  have  held  aloof,  and  I 
respected  your  isolation.  You  have  refused  me  the  privi- 
lege of  a  visitor,  and  yet  I  have  not  learned  to  unlove. 
Queenie,  you  will  never  find  a  truer,  stronger  regard.*' 


THISTLES   THAT  BROUGHT   FORTH   GRAPES.  369 

"  Oh,  hush,  hush,  she  cried,  in  pain.  "  I  cannot  listen  to 
you.  I  am  only  —  I  know  the  distance  between  — " 

"  There  is  no  distance  between.  I  know  what  you  have 
feared.  Queenie,  I  shall  not  say  one  word  to  wound  or 
pain.  I  ask  you  in  all  good  faith  and  honor  to  be  my  wife. 
Leave  this  hateful  stage  — " 

"  No,  no,"  she  interrupted.  «  There  are  so  many  things 
lhat  I  cannot  explain.  Oh,  why  did  you  say  this  !  " 

"  Because  I  wanted  you  to  know  that  my  love  could 
bring  no  pain  nor  shame.  Because  I  want  the  right  to  take 
you  away  from  here,  to  put  you  in  your  true  place.  Ah, 
you  do  not  realize  how  rarely  beautiful  you  are.  You  are 
rightly  named.  I  look  at  you  sometimes  and  think  you  are 
truly  a  little  queen.  Oh,  let  me  crown  you  !  Let  me  set 
you  where  you  will  be  admired  and  respected." 

The  carriage  stopped.  She  glanced  out  at  the  well- 
known  place,  and  a  long  breath  of  relief  escaped  her. 

"  You  have  been  so  kind,  such  a  true  friend  this  night ; 
and  you  trust  me  so  I  You  have  not  asked  how  I  came  to 
be  in  such  peril !  But  it  would  be  cowardly  and  mean  to 
take  advantage  of  your  —  your  —  " 

"  You  do  not  take  advantage.     I  give  you  my  love." 

His  arm  was  around  her,  and  he  lifted  her  out  tenderly. 
In  the  darkness  his  lips  just  brushed  against  her  cheek. 

"If  I  have  been  cold  and  distant,"  she  cried  with  sudden 
heat,  "  it  was  because  I  felt  that  I  was  not  only  poor  and 
obscure,  but  a  dancing-girl.  I  have  seen  your  family  at  the 
theatre, —  your  mother,  your  stately  and  handsome  grand- 
mother, and  your  two  sisters.  Do  you  suppose  they  would 
welcome  me  in  their  midst?  They  would  think  you  had 
disgraced  yourself  irremediably.  They  would  disown  you. 
I  wanted  to  believe  that  you  were  too  honorable  to  say 
what  it  would  be  a  shame  for  me  to  listen  to  ;  and  you  will 
see,  you  must  know,  that  it  would  not  be  right  for  me  to 
take  you  at  your  word  and  promise  —  no,  I  could  not 
bring  that  trouble  upon  you." 
24 


3YO  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

«  Then  you  do  love  me,"  he  exclaimed,  exultingly.  "Il 
was  because  you  thought  of  that,  you  sweet,  foolish,  noble 
girl !  Well,  we  are  rich  and  grand,  all  we  Grenvilles,  and 
have  some  pure  old  blood  in  our  veins ;  and,  somehow,  you 
make  me  think  of  the  old  family  portraits,  among  the 
women.  Why,  you  are  more  beautiful,  and  as  grand  as 
any  of  them.  And  they  cannot  help  loving  you !  I  am 
the  only  grandson,  the  last  Grenville  in  the  line,  and  it  shall 
go  hard  with  me  if  I  cannot  marry  whom  I  like.  But  you 
are  tired,  and  tremble  like  a  poor  frightened  bird,  and  I 
must  stay  no  longer.  Good-night,  my  darling.  You  will 
not  refuse  to  see  me  to-morrow.  I  shall  be  here  in  the 
morning." 

He  rang  the  bell,  and  the  hall-door  was  opened.  One 
lingering,  passionate  kiss  he  pressed  upon  her  lips  with  his 
murmured  adieu,  and  was  gone. 

"  Was  it  nice  ?  "  Tip  asked,  rubbing  his  sleepy  eyes. 
"I  will  tell  you  about  it  to-morrow ;  it  is  so  late." 
Tip  locked  the  door,  and  lighted  another  lamp,  and  with 
a  kindly  good-night  they  separated. 

Queenie  took  off  her  pretty  dress,  that  had  been  such  a 
delight  to  her.  Should  she  ever  like  it  again  ?  How  could 
this  awful  mistake  have  come  about  ?  And  then  the  cruel, 
sneering  face  of  Mam'selle  Zelie  rose  up  before  her.  Oh,  if 
her  stage  life  could  but  end  here,  for  now  it  was  hateful  to 
her.  The  charm  and  romance  had  suddenly  faded  to  glare 
and  tinsel,  and  whispers,  that  made  her  cheek  burn,  even  in 
this  solitude. 

Strangely  enough  she  never  once  thought  of  the  escape 
offered  that  night.  Harry  Grenville  might  have  ques- 
tioned her  love  if  he  could  have  looked  into  her  heart. 

His  brain  was  steeped  in  delicious  dreams  ;  and  he  won- 
dered a  little  how  she  came  to  have  so  much  the  style  and 
manner  of  his  sisters,  who  had  breathed  an  air  of  cultiva- 
tion ever  since  they  were  born.  And  she  living  in  that 
mean  old  house,  a  stage-dancer ! 


A  BRAVE   LOVEB.  371 


CHAPTER  XXXT. 

A  BRAVE    LOVER. 

TOWARDS  morning  Queenie  fell  into  a  troubled  slumber, 
and  slept  late.  When  she  came  down  Moppet  was  putting 
on  her  hat  for  school.  The  table  had  been  cleared,  but 
just  at  one  corner  Miss  Madeira  had  spread  a  tempting 
breakfast. 

"Oh,  you  dear  darling!"  cried  the  child.  "Auntie  Ma- 
deira wouldn't  let  me  steal  in  on  tip-toe  to  kiss  you !  So 
you  went  to  a  party  last  night?  Are  you  very  tired,  and 
was  it  splendid  ?  Oh,  there's  the  postman ! "  and  she  ran 
to  the  hall  door. 

"  Oh,  what  a  funny  letter,  auntie  Madeira,  look !  and  the 
writing  is  like  pa's,  and  it's  foreign.  Do  open  it  quick,  — 
'Miss  Bathsheba  Madeira.'  Oh, just  suppose  pa  wasn't 
drowned  after  all ! " 

Miss  Madeira  settled  her  glasses,  and  studied  it.  Yes  it 
was  —  no,  it  could  not  be,  and  her  fingers  began  to  tremble 
with  conflicting  emotions,  her  eyes  grew  dim,  and  her  heart 
was  in  a  flutter. 

"  Open  it,  Queenie,''  she  said,  faintly. 

Queenie  broke  the  great  seal.  Out  fluttered  a  queer 
looking  paper,  that  Moppet  seized  on  at  once,  and  Queenie 
gave  a  great,  joyful  cry. 

"  He  is  safe  !  He  is  on  his  way  home !  He  was  wrecked, 
and  all  that,  but  oh,  isn't  it  wonderful ! " 

She  flung  her  arms  around  Miss  Madeira's  neck.  Moppet 
joined  them,  and  the  three  cried  together.  Then  Cissy 
added  her  voice,  and  the  twins  looked  on  with  stolid 
wonder. 


872  LOST  IN    A  GREAT   CITY 

Queenie  laughed,  and  wiped  ner  eyes.  "  I  suppose  people 
do  cry  for  joy  sometimes ;  and  it's  so  splendid !  as  good  as 
my  fairy  stories,  Moppet ;  and  somehow  I  never  could  be- 
lieve he  was  dead  ;  and  oh,  just  to  think  of  it ! " 

Then  they  all  cried  again,  and  Queenie's  coffee  grew 
cold,  and  the  children  had  to  have  notes  for  being  late  at 
school.  After  they  were  out  of  the  way  Queenie  read  the 
letter  again  to  Miss  Madeira.  It  was  quite  a  stirring  story, 
and  from  it  they  learned  that  he  had  sent  word  a  month 
or  so  before,  which  had  never  reached  them.  And  enclosed 
was  an  order  for  one  hundred  dollars.  Captain  Mullins 
had  found  friends  and  employment,  and  would  be  with 
them  by  July. 

"  Oh,  Queenie,  my  dear  darling!  and  you  can  leave  the 
stage  for  good  and  all !  For  though  you've  prospered,  and 
had  no  misfortunes,  the  stage  being  considered  such  a 
temptation,  and  beauty  a  snare,  though  it  seems  to  me  I'd 
be  sorry  to  have  you  otherwise,  not  being  lifted  up  or  vain 
about  it.  And  you've  saved  the  dear  children,  and  kept 
them  together,  while  my  wits  went  wool-gathering;  and 
the  Lord  will  reward  you,  I  know.  I  look  to  have  some- 
thing out  of  the  common  order  happen  to  you." 

Miss  Madeira's  face  beamed  with  gratitude  and  hope,  and 
was  fairly  transfigured. 

Suddenly  Queenie  bethought  herself  of  her  last  night's 
adventure,  and  resolved  to  say  nothing  about  it.  There 
was  but  a  week  longer  of  stage  life,  and  she  would  be  very 
watchful.  Madame  Denzil  would  prove  a  better  counsellor, 
and  not  take  fright  so  easily  as  Miss  Madeira. 

The  thought  of  Mr.  Grenville's  proposal  flashed  over  Ler 
Strangely  enough,  with  all  his  earnestness,  she  had  not 
been  able  to  think  seriously  of  it.  Indeed,  her  time  and 
interest  had  been  so  completely  identified  with  this  family, 
that  leaving  them  seemed  out  of  the  question.  And  now 
suddenly  she  found  herself  free.  A  bright  color  mounted 


A  BRAVE  LOVER.  373 

her  cheek,  and  her  pulses  quickened.    Could  she,  dare 
she  love  Harry  Grenville  ? 

He  was  to  come  presently  for  his  answer. 

Somehow,  now  that  the  words  had  been  spoken  she 
could  not  feel  surprised.  Had  interest  turned  to  satiety 
already  ?  Only  last  night  she  had  been  full  of  fire  and 
ambition ;  to-day  she  was  cold  and  inert.  What  did  the 
crowd  care  for  the  toy  that  amused  them  ?  There  had 
once  been  a  little  Violetta,  who  had  danced  and  died,  and 
when  she  was  put  in  the  lost  favorite's  place,  who  thought 
of  tears  ? 

Yet  she  felt  Harry  Grenville's  admiration  was  of  another 
kind,  with  an  element  of  honor  in  it.  She  had  shunned 
him  as  well  as  the  others,  because  she  knew,  as  well  as 
Madame  Denzil  could  tell  her,  that  these  gifts,  this  adora- 
tion, that  men  were  so  free  to  lavish  on  a  favorite  of  the 
stage,  was  not  the  meed  of  a  true,  high-toned  respect. 

Why,  then,  did  it  not  touch  her  ?  Why  did  not  her 
heart  bound  in  gladness  at  the  thought  of  his  coming,  at 
the  consciousness  of  his  love  ?  Was  it  merely  because  the 
laws  and  usages  of  society  had  placed  so  wide  a  gulf  be- 
tween them  ?  With  her  youth  and  beauty  she  could  well 
defy  that. 

She  rose  languidly,  and  began  to  put  the  parlor  in  order. 
It  was  Peggy's  day  out,  and  Miss  Madeira  was  busy  in  the 
kitchen,  wiping  the  tears  from  her  old  eyes  one  moment, 
and  smiling  the  next.  It  did  not  seem  now  as  if  they  ever 
could  have  believed  Captain  Mullins  dead. 

To  Harry  Grenville  the  hours  were  interminably  long. 
He  read  the  morning  papers  to  his  grandfather  while  he 
was  partaking  of  his  toast  and  coffee,  and  then  he  must 
needs  decline  going  out  with  his  mother  on  account  of  a 
pressing  engagement.  But  he  would  not  dare  to  present 
himself  before  Queenie  until  eleven,  surely. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  you  this  morning,  Harry?" 


374  LOST  IN  A   GREAT   CITY. 

asked  his  handsome,  sharp-eyed  grandmother.  "You  are 
restless  and  nervous,  and  yet  you  look  —  " 

"  Well,  grandmamma ; "  and  he  laughed  uneasily. 

"  It  is  not  a  debt,  nor  an  annoyance  —  you  look  too 
happy.  Is  it  some  —  good  news  ?  " 

"  There,  you  have  just  hit  it.  Good  news.  Only,  I  am 
not  quite  sure  —  that  is  —  I  have  not  heard  positively;" 
and  he  turned  his  flushing  face  toward  the  window. 

"  You  were  at  Mrs.  Grantley's  last  evening  ?  n 

"Yes,  of  course." 

"And  Miss  Asheford  was  there?" 

"  Yes.     As  blooming  as  ever." 

"You  do  like  her,  Harry  ? " 

A  frown  crossed  the  fair  brow,  and  the  youth  bit  his  lip. 

"  Not  in  the  way  your  tone  implies,  grandmamma." 

"  But,  my  dear  boy  —  " 

"Haven't  I  said  I  would  not  be  talked  to  about  love 
matters  ?  There,  grandmere,"  giving  her  a  kiss,  "  do  not 
question  me  any  further.  And  I  must  go.  Addio ; "  wav- 
ing his  hand  across  the  room. 

"  Remember  your  promise,  Harry ! "  she  cried,  springing 
up.  "  You  are  to  tell  me  when  you  make  your  choice. 
Your  grandpapa  is  so  very  exclusive  and  particular  —  " 

But  he  was  down-stairs,  half  laughing  and  half  scolding 
as  he  went. 

"  It  is  on  the  other  side,  my  proud  old  grandmere,"  he 
was  saying  to  himself.  "  If  he  saw  Queenie  once,  at  her 
best  estate,  he  would  surrender,  I  know,  but  it  is  you  I 
shall  have  to  fight.  Ah,  you  cannot  blind  me,  and  yet  you 
love  me,  I  am  aware.  But  Queenie — " 

It  was  still  early  when  he  reached  the  house.  What  a 
poor-looking  little  place  it  was,  to  be  sure  ;  and  how  noble 
she  was  to  stay  there  and  toil  for  those  who  were  of  no 
kin  !  He  had  heard  the  story  from  Miss  Fay.  Ah,  how 
glad  he  would  be  to  take  her  out  of  it  all,  to  keep  her 
dressed  in  silks  and  laces,  and  have  a  maid  to  wait  upon 


A  BRAVE  LOVER.  375 

her,  as  his  sisters  had.  Of  course  they  would  all  be  very, 
very  angry  at  first ;  but  when  they  knew  how  good  and 
beautiful  she  was,  and  how  much  in  earnest  he  was, — that 
he  should  never,  never  marry  any  one  else,  they  would 
consent.  He  rather  liked  the  prospect  of  a  struggle  for 
the  fair  girl,  the  romance  and  fervor,  the  sweet  tenderness 
she  would  feel  for  him,  and  all  her  lovely,  bewitching 
dependence.  But  he  should  always  strive  to  make  her 
understand  that  her  beauty  counterbalanced  his  wealth. 

He  ventured  to  ring  the  door-bell  at  length.  Queenie 
answered  it,  lending  to  the  act  her  own  sweet  grace  and 
dignity,  instead  of  having  it  demean  her.  But  she  was 
very  grave,  and  changed  somehow,  yet  all  the  more  lovable 
for  the  slight  coldness  that  encircled  her. 

"  My  darling  —  "     He  dared  to  say  that  now. 

She  turned  away  her  face  as  she  ushered  him  into  the 
little  parlor,  with  its  dingy  furniture  made  more  shabby  by 
the  romping  of  children.  There  were  a  few  choice  flowers: 
he  always  took  care  that  they  awaited  her  every  night. 
And  with  a  lover's  natural  jealousy  he  liked  the  room  bet- 
ter in  that  it  had  no  token  of  other  admirers. 

Queenie  was  a  trifle  embarrassed  now.  The  shy  brown 
eyes  drooped,  the  color  went  and  came  in  her  blossom- 
like  face,  and  the  slender  fingers  interlaced  each  other 
nervously. 

"Queenie!"  He  was  down  by  her  side,  with  his  arms 
around  her.  "  My  darling,  you  do  love  me  a  little  ?  I 
have  not  dreamed  vainly  —  " 

It  was  cruel  to  pain  him,  to  crush  his  generous  enthu- 
siasm, yet  this  was  the  task  she  had  appointed  for  herself. 
She  would  not  drag  him  down  to  her  level.  She  would 
not  shadow  his  life  in  the  very  beginning. 

I  will  not  weary  you  with  the  pleading  and  the  arguments. 
He  was  earnest,  impassioned,  royally  regardless  of  obsta- 
cles, and  accustomed  to  carry  all  before  him,  to  convince 
any  one  that  his  way  was  best  and  right.  He  pictured 


876  LOST  IN  A   GREAT  CITY. 

for  her  a  brilliant  future ;  and,  though  it  tempted,  she  was 
steadfast  to  her  own  ideas  of  right  and  duty. 

**  But  if  they  consented  to  receive  you,  my  darling  ?  I 
will  not,  cannot  give  you  up !  I  will  wait  years,  until 
their  patience  is  exhausted.  I  will  look  at  no  other  wo- 
man. There  is  no  son  beside  me,  and  there  is  a  large 
fortune.  One  of  my  sisters  is  engaged  to  a  wealthy 
Southerner,  and  the  other  will,  no  doubt,  marry  well. 
Nothing  can  ever  shake  my  love  for  you  1 " 

He  looked  so  manly  and  handsome  that  she  could  not 
help  believing  in  him.  Why  did  it  seem  so  like  playing  aj 
love  to  her  ?  Was  it  because  he  was  her  first  lover,  and  she 
was  unused  to  the  ardor  and  imperiousness  of  passion? 
Ah,  where  was  that  divine  ineffable  tenderness,  that  sacred 
reliance  of  first  love  ?  For  she  seemed  only  tossed  about, 
troubled  and  uncertain. 

He  gained  a  compromise  at  length.  If  he  could  win  the 
consent  of  his  family,  even  after  a  struggle,  she  would 
yield. 

"  You  will  give  up  the  stage,"  he  pleaded.  "  You  have 
been  so  little  known  that  the  episode  will  soon  be  forgot- 
ten, and  in  your  new  sphere  no  one  will  ever  be  aware  of  it." 

" I  shall  have  no  need  after  this  week,  when  my  engage- 
ment ends."  And  then  she  told  him  the  wonderful  news 
concerning  Captain  Mullins. 

"  Queenie,"  he  said,  with  his  glowing  enthusiasm,  "  I 
think  it  one  of  the  bravest  and  noblest  things,  that  you 
should  do  just  as  you  did.  I  shall  always  be  proud  of  it, 
my  darling." 

And  there  was  the  episode  of  last  evening  to  be  ex- 
plained, though  she  shuddered  as  she  related  it. 

His  bright  eyes  grew  stern  as  he  listened,  and  the  reso- 
lute lines  about  the  mouth  expressed  his  indignation  as 
forcibly  as  any  words  could  have  done. 

"  It  was  a  vile  plot  on  some  one's  part.  Winstead  had  a 
hand  in  it;  that  is  beyond  question!  I  should  like  to 


A   BRAVE  LOVER  377 

horsewhip  the  cowardlj  scoundrel.  And  I  suspect  yout 
Main'selle  Zelie.  You  are  sure  of  Madame  Denzil's  friend- 
ship." 

"Oh,  I  should  as  soon  doubt  her  as  —  you  I"  and 
Queenie  smiled  radiantly. 

"  Then,  when  you  have  seen  her,  we  can  settle  the  rest, 
I  want  it  left  to  me.  Will  you  tell  her  ?  " 

Queenie  blushed,  and  shyly  averted  her  eyes. 

"  As  you  like,"  she  answered,  timidly. 

M I  would  like  the  whole  world  to  know  that  you  are  my 
promised  wife  !  "  was  his  proud  answer. 

Miss  Madeira  had  made  ready  their  frugal  meal,  the 
noisy  children  had  trooped  home,  clattered  up  and  down 
the  stairs,  quarrelled  because  they  were  forbidden  to  rush 
in  upon  Queenie  and  her  visitor,  and  now  the  house  was 
silent  once  more.  Harry  Grenville  lingered  until  he  was 
ashamed  of  the  small  excuses  he  was  compelled  to  bring 
forward,  and  at  last  bade  Queenie  a  reluctant  farewell,  in- 
sisting upon  the  right  to  bring  her  home  that  evening. 

"  Though  it  might  be  as  well  to  ask  your  brother,  as  you 
call  him.  I  will  be  generous,"  and  he  laughed  gayly,  with 
the  assured  faith  of  love. 

Poor  Miss  Madeira  could  scarcely  comprehend  this  new 
phase  of  affairs. 

"  If  wonders  don't  stop  I'm  afraid  I  shall  end  my  days 
in  a  lunatic  asylum,  on  bread  and  water,  and  a  strait 
jacket  —  and  a  real  marriage,  my  dear  —  and  poor  brother- 
in-law  coming  up  from  the  depths  of  the  sea;  but  if 
ever  man  was  thankful  he  ought  to  be  to  you ;  and  he 
isn't  the  worst,  for  I've  noticed  them  as  would  let  you 
work  your  fingers  to  the  bone,  and  run  your  feet  off, 
with  never  a  thank'ee,  but  when  it's  born  in  'em  maybe 
they're  not  to  blame,  and  you  can't  most  always  tell  about 
decrees  and  fore-ordination,  but  I  hope  it's  all  scripture,  as 
poor,  dear  father  used  to  believe.  He  was  a  great  stickler 
for  it,  my  dear." 


378  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

Queeme  tasted  a  few  morsels,  to  please  Miss  Madeira, 
and  then  declared  that  it  was  absolutely  necessary  to  see 
Madame  Denzil.  There  was  to  be  a  grand  benefit  this 
evening  for  the  pretty  princess  who  had  so  enchanted  the 
theatre-loving  world  with  her  startling  adventures.  There 
would  be  little  opportunity  for  any  confidence,  and  she 
felt  that  she  could  not  wait. 

Dolly  Denzil  was  at  home,  and  alone,  fortunately ;  a  little 
startled  at  her  unexpected  visitor,  and  alarmed  at  the  pale 
face  and  weary  eyes. 

"  You  little  ghost !  "  she  cried.  "  Is  this  the  way  you 
keep  your  beauty  for  the  benefit  ?  Ritchie  expects  us  to  be 
overwhelming !  Pet  said,  an  hour  ago,  that  the  scramble 
for  seats  was  positively  disgraceful.  Everything  available 
is  gone.  What  idiots  the  dear  public  are  1  Won't  you 
have  a  glass  of  wine  ?  What  is  the  matter  ?  " 

"  I  have  come  to  tell  you,"  and  the  soft  lips  quivered. 
"Dear  Madame  Denzil,  you  have  been  so  kind,"  and 
Queenie's  arms  dropped  in  the  other's  lap,  with  a  weary 
motion.  "  So  much  has  happened  to  me." 

"  Well,  little  nun,  I'll  promise  to  be  a  lenient  father-con- 
fessor," and  the  bright  eyes  sparkled  mirthfully. 

"  First,  did  you  send  for  me  last  evening  after  I  went 
home  ?  " 

"Send  for  you?  Why,  no!"  in  the  utmost  astonish- 
ment, opening  her  eyes  very  wide. 

"Then  it  was  a  plot!  A  cruel,  cowardly  plot!"  was 
the  excited  exclamation. 

"  What  was  ?  You  are  as  mysterious  as  the  malevolent 
fairy.  Who  plotted  ?  Let  me  know  at  once  ! " 

"  But  I  am  going  to  tell  you ! "  and  Queenie  went 
rapidly  over  the  main  incidents.  Madame  Denzil  listened 
in  the  utmost  surprise. 

"  Zelie  was  at  the  bottom  of  it,  you  may  be  sure,  though 
flint  Winstcad  has  been  besieging  every  one  for  an  oppor- 
tunity to  meet  you.  My  little  girl,  I  am  so  glad  that  you 


A  BRAVE  LOVER.  379 

have  been  content  to  keep  out  of  sight.  These  green-room 
acquaintances  are  seldom  of  much  benefit,  unless  one  cares 
just  for  the  suppers,  the  presents,  and  the  sham  love. 
Once  in  a  great  while  a  man  marries  out  of  his  own  circle. 
Generally  it  is  only  pleasant  pastime  to  him,  while  to  the 
girl  it  may  be  the  saddest  earnest.  But  what  hateful  plan 
could  Zelie  have  had,  to  throw  you  into  that  idiot's  power! 
And  what  a  strange  ending !  Oh,  my  child,  I  shall  have 
to  take  you  and  watch  over  you." 

She  clasped  the  young  girl  to  her  heart,  and  kissed  the 
pale  lips  with  eager  fondness. 

"But  that  was  not  the  end,"  said  Queenie  in  a  low, 
strangling  tone. 

"Was  there  a  Scylla  to  the  Charybdis?  Surely,  you 
have  not  allowed  yourself — " 

"  He  wants  to  marry  me ! "  cried  Queenie,  distressed 
beyond  measure ;  and  her  face  crimsoned  to  its  utmost 
capacity. 

"  To  marry  you  ?  Are  you  quite  sure,  Queenie  ?  You 
are  so  young,  so  honest  and  trustful  —  " 

"  Let  me  tell  you  the  rest,"  interposed  the  soft,  entreat- 
ing voice." 

"Upon  my  word,  Queenie  Barretti,  you  have  stumbled 
into  a  romance.  An  actual  marriage  !  And  do  you  know 
it  is  said  those  Grenvilles  are  fabulously  wealthy?  I  once 
gave  the  young  man  a  bit  of  advice,  for  I  did  like  him ; 
and  that  was  to  let  stage  performers  alone,  and  not  waste 
his  substance  upon  their  riotous  living.  He  has  heeded  it 
beautifully." 

"  But  what  must  I  do  ?  *  Queenie  implored. 

"  Do  ?  Why,  marry  him.  You  are  lovely  enough  to 
grace  any  station,  and  two  years  at  a  good  school  would 
make  you  the  peer  of  any  modern  young  lady.  I  don't 
know  that  1  should  have  stipulated  for  everybody's  con- 
sent." 

"  But  if  he  should  be  sorry  —  if  he  should  repent  after- 


380  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

frards  —  when  there  was  no  help  ?  "  Queenie  asked,  breath- 
lessly." 

"  My  dear,  it's  a  trick  they  have.  You  know  the  judge 
sighed  for  the  barefooted  maiden ;  but  if  he  had  married 
her  he  would  have  sighed  for  the  heiress.  Queenie,  you 
are  quite  too  young,  too  unworldly,  to  understand  your 
own  power.  The  kind  of  beautiful  woman  you  will  make 
ought  to  so  fascinate  her  husband  that  he  would  hug  his 
chain ;  but  you  will  be  a  sweet,  yielding  little  fool,  think- 
ing you  owe  him  all  gratitude,  all  humbleness ;  and  it  will 
be  the  very  way  to  tire  him.  Well,  after  all  you  were 
right  not  to  fall  too  easily  into  his  hands,  like  an  over-ripe 
peach.  If  he  is  in  earnest  he  can  fight  his  way  through  a 
little  opposition.  Yet  I  cannot  help  believing  he  will 
prove  to  be  your  destiny.  Fate  arranges  these  things  so 
oddly.  To  think  that  he  should  come  to  your  rescue  last 
night!" 

Queenie's  hands  dropped  helplessly  in  her  lap.  If  it 
was  fate  — 

«  You  told  him  that,  —  all  of  it  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  and  I  was  to  ask  you ;  but  I  think  it  would  be 
so  much  better  to  take  no  notice  of  it ; "  and  she  shivered 
at  the  thought  of  figuring  in  even  so  slight  a  scandal. 

"  Oh,  much  the  wisest  course.  Act  to-night  just  as  if  it 
had  not  occurred.  Winstead  will  hardly  be  likely  to  boast, 
I  think.  Queenie,  next  week  I  am  going  to  Chicago ;  Pet 
and  I  have  an  engagement  there.  You  must  go  with  us 
for  the  rest  and  change.  Let  these  Mullins  people  exist 
by  themselves  for  a  while.  Surely  you  have  done  enough 
for  them ! w 

"  Oh,  Madame  Denzil,"  she  cried,  with  a  touch  of  real 
pain  in  her  voice,  "  they  will  not  need  me  in  that  way,  any 
more.  Captain  Mullins  is  alive,  and  is  coining  home  soon. 
And  Miss  Madeira  is  quite  well  —  " 

tt  And  you  are  worn  and  tired.  Your  sweet  face  is  so 
appealing  that  I  want  to  take  you  in  my  arms  and  husb 


A   BRAVE   LOVER.  381 

you  to  sleep.  But  have  you  any  idea  how  the  time  ii 
going  ?  Will  you  stay  and  accompany  me  to  the  theatre  ? 
If  so  you  shall  go  to  bed  directly,  and  not  be  disturbed  for 
the  next  two  hours." 

"  Oh,  I  cannot,  I  cannot ! "  and  Queeiiie  sprang  up.  "  I 
must  go  home  at  once." 

"  There  is  not  the  slightest  need.  See  here,  I  will  send 
a  note  up  to  your  Miss  Madeira.  There,  not  a  word. 
Now  I  am  going  to  put  you  on  the  sofa,  and  give  you  a 
little  lavender.  Don't  worry  yourself  about  another  earthly 
thing.  I  shall  put  my  threat  into  execution,  and  adopt 
you,  and  carry  you  off  with  me.  Then  I  shall  keep  watch 
of  that  young  man ;  and  if  he  isn't  very  deserving  he  will 
find  himself  shipped  off  in  a  hurry.  Poor,  tired  little 
thing,  you  want  some  one  to  take  care  of  you,  and  scold 
you,  and  pet  you ;  and  I  am  just  the  person  !  " 

She  bustled  about  and  overruled  Queenie,  who  was  too 
nearly  worn  out  to  make  much  of  a  resistance.  When 
Madame  Denzil  had  her  all  nice  and  quiet  she  opened  a 
book  of  poems,  and  began  to  read.  Thinking  of  the  old 
times,  and  Dick  Bridger,  Queenie  dropped  into  a  tranquil 
slumber. 


382  LOST   IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 


CHAPTER  XXXTL 

IS  IT   TOO  LATE? 

PALACE  GARDEN  was  crowded.  The  music  was  more 
entrancing  than  ever,  the  stage  accessories  had  been  fresh- 
ened up,  the  actors  and  actresses  were  full  of  life  and 
spirit.  Elegant  ladies  nodded  and  smiled,  and  made  the 
air  fragrant  with  their  scented  fans  and  delicious  bouquets. 
Mademoiselle  Zanfretti  was  startlingly  lovely,  and  more 
sylph-like  than  ever.  The  first  glimpse  of  her  was  greeted 
with  rapturous  applause. 

Some  distance  away  there  was  another  episode  transpir- 
ing that  concerned  her  more  nearly  than  she  dreamed.  It 
was  almost  nine  when  the  bell  of  an  elegant  up-town  resi- 
dence was  answered  by  the  polite  waiter. 

"Is  Mr.  Byington  in?"  asked  a  full,  hearty  voice  that 
you  would  imagine  belonged  to  this  robust,  stalwart  frame 
and  vigorous,  though  not  handsome  face.  "  Will  you  hand 
him  that  card  ?  I  will  wait  here  in  the  vestibule." 

The  servant  returned  in  a  moment.  "The  gentleman 
was  to  walk  into  the  library." 

The  young  man  glanced  around  at  the  evidences  of 
wealth  and  refinement,  and  smiled  a  little  at  the  subtile 
odor  of  a  cigar. 

"  Ah,  Mr.  Chafney,"  said  the  cordial  voice  of  Mr.  Bying- 
ton, and  the  same  kindly  face  smiled  on  him  that  had  in 
the  by-gone  years  roused  his  ambition  to  be  somebody; 
"  but  you  grow  and  change  almost  out  of  one's  recollection. 
You  are  well,  I  hope  ?  " 

w  Very  well.     And  yourself  and  family  ?  " 

You  would  hardly  have  guessed  that  this  sturdy,  honest, 


IS   IT   TOO    LATE.  383 

open-faced  young  man  could  have  been  the  little  street 
Arab,  Tim  Chafney.  Yet  so  it  was.  Mr.  Byington's 
efforts  had  been  assisted  by  the  boy's  ambition  and  resolve. 
He  had  not  only  acquired  a  profitable  and  excellent  trade, 
but  what  with  evening  schools  and  reading-rooms  he  had 
made  himself  master  of  a  very  fair  education. 

He  answered  Mr.  Byington's  inquiries  concerning  him- 
self in  a  very  satisfactory  manner,  and  was  congratulated 
upon  the  improvement  he  had  made. 

"  It's  most  kind  of  you,  Mr.  Byington,  to  take  an  interest 
in  me,"  said  Tim,  with  frank  gratitude.  "  But  I  didn't 
come  for  that  this  evening.  You  have  not  forgotten  the 
little  Nora  that  brought  me  all  my  good  fortune  ?  I  feel 
sometimes  as  if  it  was  cruel  to  be  happy  and  prosperous, 
while  she  is  —  no  one  knows  where.  And  I  have  heard 
something  about  her." 

Mr.  Byington  sprang  up,  excitedly. 

"  No,  Tim ! "  he  exclaimed,  as  if  he  could  hardly  believe  it. 

"  I  don't  know  whether  it  will  prove  a  clue  or  not,"  said 
Tim,  rather  uncertainly.  "And  it's  that  cruel  and  wicked ! 
If  she  had  not  been  dying  —  " 

"She?    Not  the  child?" 

oh,  no,  sir,"  eagerly.  "  You  knew  about  the  woman 
my  father  married  —  Mother  Mell,  as  she  was  called.  She 
was  a  bold,  handsome,  bad  sort  of  woman,  and  for  two  or 
three  years  I've  heard  nothing  of  her.  She  is  dying  in 
BeJevue;  is  dead,  I  suppose,  by  this  time.  I  was  up 
there  this  morning.  She  sent  for  me  last  week,  but  the 
word  was  delayed." 

"And  you  heard  about  Nora?" 

"I  heard  —  yes,  sir.  You  see,  Mell  was  desperately 
jealous  because  my  father  took  a  liking  to  this  little  Nora, 
and  she  took  her  off  and  sold  her.". 

"  Sold  her !     To  whom  ?     Poor,  sweet  little  child." 

"  She  sold  her  to  a  man  who  was  a  sort  of  receiver  for 
stolen  goods,  or  rather  who  passed  on  valuables  and  made 


384  LOST   IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 

bargains.  And  when  any  one  wanted  a  child  for  any  spe- 
cial purpose,  this  man,  it  seems,  managed  to  get  possession 
of  the  required  article." 

"And  this  in  our  own  city!     You  amaze  me." 

"  Mell  said  that  children  were  sometimes  taken  there 
and  kept  for  big  rewards,  sometimes  sold  to  street  musi- 
cians, and  for  various  purposes." 

"  But  we  offered  a  reward,"  said  Mr.  Byington. 

"  Yes.  Mell  had  no  idea  the  child  was  valuable.  She 
had  no  rich  clothes  or  jewelry  about  her.  But  after  she 
heard,  she  tried  to  get  her  back,  and  this  man,  Retzer,  had 
sold  her  again." 

"That  sounds  incredible,  Tim." 

"  But  this  is  the  cruellest  part.  She  would  not  tell  Ret- 
zer, lest  he  might  claim  the  reward,  and  he  would  give  her 
no  information  as  to  where  the  child  had  really  gone.  To 
think  that  she  might  have  been  found !  And  oh,  sir,  not 
to  know  anything  about  her !  Why,  she  would  be  a  young 
lady  by  this  time  —  I  counted  it  up.  She  was  such  a 
beautiful  little  thing!  I  can  see  her  now,  just  like  a  pic- 
ture. Mell  thinks  she  was  taken  out  of  the  city." 

"But  this  man,  —  Retzer,  did  you  call  him,  —  can  we 
not  find  him,  Tim  ?  Money  would  be  no  object.  There 
is  her  father." 

"Oh,  sir,  isn't  it  hard?"  and  Tim  winked  away  some 
tears.  "Mell  told  me  where  he  was,  and  I  went  to  the 
place.  It  had  been  a  regular  hole,  a  resort  for  thieves  and 
desperadoes.  In  April  the  property  was  sold,  and  the 
houses  torn  down.  They  are  going  to  build  a  row  of  brick 
tenements.  And  Retzer  went  to  Germany  —  sailed  the 
twentieth  of  April." 

"  There  certainly  is  a  fatality  attending  the  child.  We 
seem  to  come  upon  the  traces  always  too  late.  You  are 
sure  this  Mell  told  the  truth  ?" 

"  Oh,  yes.  She  seemed  sorry  and  penitent  like,  and 
when  I  told  her  Nora's  father  had  come  back,  and  was  a 


IB  IT   TOO   LATE.  385 

great  gentleman,  the  tears  just  rolled  out  of  her  eyes,  for 
she  was  too  weak  to  cry.  The  doctor  said  she  had  been 
dying  for  hours.  She  couldn't  have  told  such  a  lie  with 
her  last  breath,  when  she  could  barely  speak." 

"  No,  Tim,  that  would  be  too  terrible.  But  if  she  had 
spoken  sooner ! " 

"  I  found  a  friend  of  Retzer's  —  they're  all  mighty  sus- 
picious, sir,  unless  it  is  of  people  like  themselves.  I 
learned  that  he  had  a  brother  at  Hamburg,  and  have  the 
address.  I  made  this  man  believe  it  would  be  greatly  to 
Retzer's  advantage,  and  I  hardly  think  he  would  deceive 
so  grossly." 

"You  have  a  long  head,  Tim,"  and  Mr.  Byington 
smiled.  "I  know  a  mercantile  house  at  Hamburg,  and 
they  can  do  the  business  through  some  attorney.  We 
will  offer  a  liberal  reward  for  the  information." 

"  Couldn't  her  father  do  something  ?  "  asked  the  young 
man,  eagerly. 

tt  Why,  yes.  How  stupid  not  to  think  of  it.  And  yet 
it  seems  such  a  painful  story  to  tell  him.  But  we  had  bet- 
ter. Will  you  give  me  the  address?" 

Tim  produced  it,  and  also  the  confession,  to  which 
Mother  Mell  had  appended  her  scrawl,  in  the  presence  of 
the  physician. 

"  I  shall  spare  no  pains,  and  yet  I  have  very  little  hope. 
If  we  should  find  her,  with  the  changes  and  chances  of 
years  between  —  " 

"  Oh,  sir,  she  couldn't  be  anything  but  what  she  was 
then.  I  can't  fancy  her  growing  loud  and  coarse  and 
common.  I  am  only  afraid  that  she  has  been  hardly  used ; 
and  she  was  such  a  sweet  little  angel.  Maybe  I'd  better 
not  have  taken  her  in  when  she  clung  to  me  so  that  day." 

"Oh,  Tim,  don't  reproach  yourself.  But  for  you  we 
might  not  even  have  known  these  few  facts." 

"And  by  fall  we  can  learn  what  Retzer  will  tell  us.  Oh, 
25 


886  LOST  IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 

Mr.  Byington,  let  us  keep  up  heart  a  while  longer.  Some- 
how  this  has  given  me  a  new  hope." 

They  parted  very  cordially.  Mr.  Byington  went  to  his 
wife's  sitting-room,  and  paused  before  the  portrait  of  the 
lovely  child. 

"Oh,  Edward!"  and  Mrs.  Byington  sprang  up.  "You 
have  not  heard  anything  of  our  little  Nora?" 

They  always  said,  "Our  Little  Nora."  The  child  they 
had  never  seen  was  at  once  an  expectation,  and,  singularly 
enough,  held  all  the  grace  of  a  past  possession.  More  than 
this,  she  was  theirs.  The  real  child  would  have  a  father 
and  a  home,  this  shadowy  being  could  not  be  taken  from 
them. 

M  Oh,  you  have,"  she  cried,  impetuously,  as  he  made  no 
answer. 

tt  My  dear  wife,  a  man  of  any  discretion  would  keep  this 
to  himself,"  and  he  smiled  down  on  the  eager  face,  "  but  I 
shall  have  to  tell  you,  of  course,  even  at  the  risk  of  a  heart- 
ache. It  is  the  second  real  link  in  the  chain,  and  yet  we 
may  never  reach  the  end." 

Then  he  recapitulated  the  particulars  of  Tim's  call,  and 
the  slender  thread  they  had  on  which  to  build  a  hope. 

w  How  strange,"  she  said,  after  they  had  discussed  it  in 
all  its  bearings,  "  that,  to-morrow,  Roger  comes  home.  He 
always  took  such  a  curious  interest  in  the  child ;  and  he 
more  than  half  believes  that  little  acrobat  was  Nora,  I 
wish  we  had  taken  more  pains  to  find  out,  for  it  seems 
quite  possible  now  that  she  might  have  been  sold  for  some 
such  purpose.  And  his  hunting  up  that  Mrs.  Chippenham, 
who  was  Barretti's  wife,,  may  be  of  some  real  service.  Oh, 
poor  little  children!  How  many  of  them  are  sinned 
against  in  this  world  !  * 

*  Why,  it  would  be  odd  if  Roger  found  another  link. 
But  the  little  girl  he  traced  ran  away  from  some  place,  did 
she  not  ?  I  think  she  would  be  likely  to  go  on  the  stage 
again.  Are  there  any  famous  gol  den  -haired  young  women 
acrobats  ?  " 


IS   IT   TOO   LATE.  387 

"  Oh,  I  hope  she  has  not  taken  to  the  stage,"  cried  Mrs. 
Byington.  "I  have  never  had  any  faith  in  Roger's 
protege,  but  just  now  I  have  a  presentiment,  or  a  mis- 
giving —  " 

"  Wait  until  we  see  him ;  and,  above  all,  let  us  say  noth- 
ing to  Maggie." 

The  steamer  had  been  signalled  late  that  afternoon,  and 
the  next  morning  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Byington  drove  down  to 
the  wharf  in  the  carriage.  Roger  had  been  two  years 
abroad,  and  he  had  left  George  at  school  in  a  quaint  old 
German  town. 

Mrs.  Byington  sat  there  impatiently,  while  the  legal  for- 
mula was  being  complied  with.  And  then  her  husband 
came  elbowing  his  way  through  the  crowd,  with  a  tall, 
handsome,  laughing  fellow  on  his  arm,  whose  creamy  skin 
was  like  fine  bronze,  and  whose  magnificent  eyes  were 
more  brilliant  than  ever,  while  a  luxuriant  moustache  gave 
him  an  oriental  air. 

"  Aunt  Alice ! "     "  Roger ! " 

They  said  it  in  a  breath.  No  mother  could  be  prouder 
of  him  than  she  was,  or  more  thankful  for  the  health, 
honor,  and  purity  shining  in  the  sunny  face. 

"  I've  just  been  explaining  to  uncle  Edward  that  I 
brought  home  that  poor  Mrs.  Chippenham.  She  is  to  go  to 
a  quiet  lodging-house,  with  another  passenger.  Oh,  aunt 
Alice ! "  and  the  handsome  face  was  all  alight. 

"I  can  guess,  Roger.  The  little  Queen  Titania  was 
Nora.  If  I  had  gone,  that  day,  at  Seaview ! " 

"Yes.  It  is  an  odd  story,  quite  a  romance,  in  fact.  Mrs. 
Chippenham  heard  that  she  died  in  a  hospital.  She  is  liv- 
ing yet,  I  am  sure,  and  all  the  rest  is  easy.  It  is  only  to 
advertise  for  the  little  Queen  Titania.  But  oh,  how  are 
you  all,  and  dear  Lai  ?  I've  thought  so  much  about  Nora 
that  I  can  hardly  get  her  out  of  my  mind.  But  it  is  so  de- 
lightful to  see  your  faces  once  more,  and  to  be  at  home, 
Have  I  changed  much  ?  " 


388  T.08T   IN   A   GREAT    CITY. 

"  Yes,  and  no.  But  I  will  forgive  your  talking  about 
Nora.  We  can  come  to  ourselves  afterward.  What  proof 
have  you  ?  " 

"  Nothing  but  the  child's  story,  and  the  dates.  She 
went  to  this  Dick  Bridger  the  very  day  of  her  second  dis- 
appearance. He  found  her,  or  obtained  her  somewhere  in 
New  York.  She  told  the  story  of  her  losing  Maggie  in 
the  street,  of  Tim  Chafney  befriending  her,  and  that  horrid 
hag  of  a  mother  Mell,  who  took  her  to  the  house  from 
whence  Dick  Bridger  carried  her  away." 

"  And  your  hero,  your  wonderful  athlete  bought  her  like 
a  little  slave.  At  least,  mother  Mell  sold  her.  We  heard 
BO  last  evening,"  said  Mrs.  Byington,  bitterly. 

u  I  fancied  it  must  have  been  something  like  that  from 
what  Mrs.  Chippenham  said.  And  yet  she  might  have 
fallen  into  worse  hands.  What  puzzled  me  about  it  is  that 
neither  of  them  saw  the  advertisement." 

"And  she  remembered  her  being  lost  —  Maggie,  and 
all?  Edward,  it  will  be  hardly  worth  while  to  bother 
about  that  man  Retzer.  When  can  we  see  Mrs.  Chippen- 
ham ?  How  fortunate  that  you  brought  her  home." 

"  Poor  thing !  And  yet  she  amuses  me.  With  a  kindly 
heart,  she  has  so  little  common  sense.  She  had  quite  a 
fortune  when  she  married  this  man  Chippenham.  She 
rave  it  all  to  him,  and  was  persuaded  to  hire  out  this  little 
Queen  Titania.  He  has  spent  it,  is  a  miserable  drunkard 
and  gambler,  has  treated  her  cruelly,  and  now  she  has  left 
him.  Indeed,  I  found  her  living  at  service  in  an  American 
family ;  but  the  scoundrel  managed  to  get  her  wages." 

"If  we  can  but  find  her!  I  do  think  she  would  natu- 
rally return  to  the  stage,"  said  Mr.  Byington.  "  Do  you 
know  it  will  soon  be  nine  years  since  she  was  lost." 

"  All  her  sweet  young  life !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Byington, 
regretfully.  "  And  now  one  cannot  tell  what  she  will  be." 

w  Do  you  know,  aunt  Alice,  I  have  the  utmost  faith  in 
her,  the  greatest  hope  for  her.  She  was  such  a  noble, 


IS  IT  TOO  LATE.  389 

truthful  little  girl.  Mrs.  Chippenham  has  related  so  many 
touching  incidents  about  her.  I  do  not  see  how  she  could 
bear  to  give  up  the  child.  She  said  Nora  would  not  tell  a 
lie  to  save  herself  from  any  punishment,  and  she  raves 
about  the  child's  beauty.  I  believe  the  woman  from  whom 
she  ran  away  misrepresented  her  horribly." 

Mrs.  Byington  sighed.  She  could  not  be  as  hopeful  as 
Roger.  She  knew  how  many  temptations  there  were  for  a 
girl,  young  and  beautiful;  and  even  if  she  had  committed 
no  overt  act,  she  must,  nearly  all  these  years,  have  been 
without  any  elevating  or  refining  influences. 

They  reached  the  house  presently,  and  then  the  proud 
and  fond  aunt  saw  more  clearly  the  improvement  there  had 
been  in  Roger  the  last  two  years.  How  delighted  his 
father  would  be !  No  traces  of  dissipation  in  that  health- 
ful eye,  or  glowing  cheek,  while  his  bearing  and  manners 
had  the  courteous  refinement  of  a  true  gentleman. 

"I  think,"  he  said,  some  time  after  lunch,  "that  I  had 
better  bring  Mrs.  Chippenham  up  here,  and  we  will  all  go 
overt  the  case.  There  must  be  no  possibility  of  a  mistake. 
Then  when  we  advertise  we  will  send  a  copy  to  every  the- 
atrical manager  of  any  note  in  the  country." 

He  was  so  engrossed,  however,  that  he  did  not  set  out 
to  seek  Mrs.  Chippenham  until  the  next  morning.  She 
was  still  much  fatigued  from  her  journey,  and  affected  by 
the  great  change  in  her  fortunes. 

Poor  Kate.  Dearly  had  she  paid  for  her  folly  in  listen- 
ing to  Chippenham's  delusive  love  t:ile.  She  had  been 
slow  to  suspect,  and  even  her  suspicions  were  easily  allayed 
at  first.  Ignorant  of  business,  and  the  management  of 
property,  she  did  not  know  that  he  was  squandering  right 
and  left,  on  his  own  foolish  experiments,  until  it  was  gone. 
Then  casual  neglect  turned  into  habitual  indifference. 
When  Kate  ventured  on  a  rather  fretful  remonstrance,  she 
found  that  instead  of  a  master  she  had  a  tyrant.  Dia- 
monds, valuable  laces,  and  silks,  were  parted  with,  and 


390  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

when  she  was  forced  to  take  a  service-place  to  keep  from 
absolute  starvation  her  once  adored  husband,  now  a 
brutish  drunkard,  did  not  hesitate  to  use  threats  to  extort 
a  part  of  her  wages.  How  thankful  she  was  when  Roger 
Lasselle  dropped  down  upon  her,  questioned  her,  and  heard 
in  return  her  rambling,  complaining  story,  and  offered  to 
take  her  back  to  America.  She  shed  tears  of  gratitude, 
and  was  eagerly,  childishly  delighted  with  the  news  that 
Queenie  was  not  dead. 

The  years  had  aged  and  changed  her  a  good  deal.  The 
glossy  back  hair  had  many  a  silver  thread,  and  the  once 
comely  face  looked  faded,  haggard ;  the  figure  had  de- 
veloped into  middle-aged  stoutness.  It  was  hardly  in 
human  nature,  certainly  not  in  her  nature,  not  to  bewail 
her  former  luxury.  She  who  had  lived  at  hotels,  and  kept 
a  carriage,  to  be  reduced  to  this  plight. 

Roger  brought  her  over  to  his  aunt,  and  Tim  Cliafney's 
episode  united  the  two  stories.  There  could  be  no  further 
doubt  about  Queenie's  identity.  The  only  trouble  now 
was  to  find  her. 

"  I  think  we  had  better  append  Mrs.  Chippenham's  name 
to  the  advertisement,"  said  Mr.  Byington.  "  She  will  learn 
by  that  endorsement  that  it  is  no  plot  or  trap,  and  be  more 
likely  to  answer  it.  If  she  is  in  public  life  she  must  surely 
see  it." 

Roger  glanced  over  the  paper,  on  Thursday  morning, 
with  a  rather  discontented  air.  He  knew  the  personal  was 
handed  in  too  late  for  publication,  and  yet  he  half  hoped 
to  see  it.  Then  he  ran  his  eye  over  the  theatre  lists.  No 
familiar  name  there. 

"  If  this  little  Queen  Titania  had  become  very  famous 
you  would  have  heard  of  her,  Lawrence,  of  course.  What 
if  she  should  not  be  on  the  stage  ?  " 

"  Mamma  would  be  better  satisfied." 

"  And  she  would  be  more  difficult  to  find." 

tt  How  strangely  impatient  you  are,  Roger ! n 


IS  IT  TOO  LATE.  391 

"  Am  I,  Lai  ? "  Well,  I  suppose  it  is  because  I  have 
heard  and  talked  so  much  about  her  during  the  iast  six 
weeks.  And  then  we  seem  to  come  so  near  !  Oh,  Lai,  of 
course  you  have  been  to  see  that  great  thing  at  the  Palace 
Garden  ?  *  Last  week  '  here,  in  flaming  capitals.  What  a 
wonderful  run  it  has  had !  Was  it  good  ?  "  with  sudden 
interest. 

"  Well,  yes,"  rather  deliberately.  "  You'd  like  it  im- 
mensely, Roger.  There  is  some  exquisite  dancing,  thougli 
I  am  not  specially  fond  of  ballet.  Why  didn't  I  think  to  go 
last  evening  ?  There  was  a  tremendous  benefit.  Mam'selle 
Zelie  is  no  favorite  of  mine,  but  people  do  go  wild  about 
her.  But  there  are  some  marvellously  lovely  girls;  and 
many  of  the  scenes  are  unsurpassed  for  beauty." 

u  Why  not  go  to-night  r"'  exclaimed  Roger,  eagerly. 

"  I  have  an  engagement,"  and  a  delicate  color  fluttered 
over  Lawrence  Byington'o  face.  "  But  we  will  go  to- 
morrow night,  Roger,  and  I'll  ask  some  people  I  know  to 
join  us.  There  is  a  young  fellow,  Harry  Grenville  by  name, 
who  is  just  about  as  stage  crazy  as  you  are.  He  will  join 
us,  I  know." 

"Ah,  here  is  an  account  of  the  benefit,"  and  Roger 
glanced  it  over.  "  This  quite  excites  my  curiosity.  Well, 
Lai,  agreed.  I'll  just  take  a  touch  of  your  New  York 
dissipation  while  it  is  going." 

That  evening  there  was  an  elderly,  prosy  couple  to 
dinner,  some  distant  connection.  Lawrence  excused  him- 
self, and  Roger,  after  being  bored  awhile  with  reminiscences 
of  the  good  old  times,  lighted  his  cigar,  and  sauntered  in 
the  street.  How  restless  and  uneasy  he  had  grown.  Was 
it  all  about  this  famous  Queen  Titania  ? 

Why  not  drop  into  the  Palace  Garden  ?  It  would  bo 
rather  late,  but  he  could  see  the  whole  play  to-morrow 
night,  that  is,  if  it  would  bear  a  repetition.  It  might  help 
him  pass  away  an  hour  or  two,  and  then  aunt  Alice  would 
be  at  liberty. 


392  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

He  hailed  a  horse-car,  and  quickly  reached  his  destina- 
tion. Admittance  he  could  gain,  but  a  seat  was  not  to  be 
had,  unless  there  happened  to  be  some  accidentally  vacant. 

"  Never  mind,"  said  Roger,  "  I  will  run  my  chance." 

The  heat  and  closeness  half  stifled  him,  at  first.  Yes,  it 
was  packed,  sure  enough.  Ah,  what  delicious  strains  of 
music !  No  wonder  the  listeners  were  enchanted. 

He  had  been  standing  some  ten  minutes,  or  more,  when  a 
gentleman  beckoned  to  him. 

"  We  are  compelled  to  leave,"  the  stranger  said,  in  a 
low  tone.  "  My  companion  is  too  faint  to  remain.  Would 
you  like  a  seat  ?  " 

"  Oh,  thank  you,"  returned  Roger,  with  an  appreciative 
smile. 

He  could  see  directly  on  the  stage  now.  The  bewitch- 
ing fairy-ring  had  been  in  the  scene  before,  but  he  looked 
and  listened,  and  presently  yielded  to  the  enchantment. 

Suppose  Titania  was  in  such  a  group  as  this!  There 
was  a  tall,  slender,  fair-haired  girl  —  no,  he  could  not 
imagine  that  her.  There  was  a  jolly  rollicking  little  thing, 
—  well,  blonde  tresses  certainly  were  in  the  ascendency. 
Hark!  There  was  a  dainty  bit  of  song,  a  sort  of  Lurlei 
call  —  ah,  what  a  lovely  face !  What  an  exquisite  form, 
and  a  foot  that  would  scarcely  crush  violets.  An  immense 
favorite,  too,  if  one  could  judge  from  the  applause.  He 
followed  down  the  programme  —  Mademoiselle  Zanfretti. 

She  disappeared,  but,  presently,  when  there  was  another 
burst  of  enthusiasm,  he  found  it  bestowed  upon  her  entrance. 
Every  eye  seemed  to  follow  her.  She  had  no  beguiling 
coquettish  ways,  she  rarely  glanced  up,  indeed,  the  longer 
he  watched  the  more  she  seemed  something  apart  from  the 
play,  and  where  she  mingled  with  the  others,  it  was  done 
in  a  shy,  deprecating  manner.  She  affected  him  like  an 
exquisite  strain  of  music. 

There  was  a  soft  night  scene,  one  of  the  later  interpola 
tions  In  the  play.  Far  up,  in  an  enchanted  castle,  lived  the 


IS    IT   TOO  LATE.  393 

cruel  fairy  who  held  the  princess  in  bondage.  Only  one 
perilous  charm  could  subdue  her,  a  midnight  incantation. 
Up  through  airy  clouds  tripped  the  lithe  figure.  There  sat 
the  old  hag,  gazing  at  the  midnight  stars,  when  before  her 
eyes  appears  —  what  ?  —  a  sprite  of  the  air  ?  Only  well- 
trained  nerves  could  have  balanced  themselves  on  those 
deceptive  blue  and  silver  clouds,  could  have  danced  with 
the  wonderful  airy  motion.  The  mist  of  soft,  golden  hair 
seemed  to  melt  into  the  ether,  and  form  a  halo.  And,  oh, 
what  glorious  eyes,  seen  way  up  there!  What  dainty, 
twinkling  feet!  What  delicate,  slender  hands!  Ah,  no 
wonder  they  can  weave  a  charm  that  shall  bind  the  evil 
spirit,  while  from  below  they  enter  and  carry  off  the  cap- 
tive princess,  because  the  old  hag  has  forgotten  her  watch 
one  minute  too  late,  tranced  by  this  bewildering  sprite. 
Down  she  threads  her  way  again. 

Ah !  Had  something  suddenly  rendered  Roger  blind  and 
dumb !  The  curtain  fell  —  there  was  a  rapture  of  applause, 
but  he  knew  of  both  as  in  a  dream.  He  sat  stunned,  as  if 
some  one  had  struck  him  a  blow.  That  last  marvellous 
turn,  that  wave  of  the  hand,  the  half-smiling  expression. 
He  could  not  even  think  for  some  moments. 

Then  the  princess  was  restored  to  her  father's  palace. 
There  was  a  great  array  of  courtiers  and  ladies  ;  peasants 
and  shepherdesses  danced  on  the  green  ;  there  was  music, 
and  ringing  of  joy  bells ;  a  brave,  handsome,  true  lover ;  a 
wedding  ;  and  the  curtain  fell. 

It  rose  again  on  an  enchanting  scene.  The  palace,  the 
bank  of  a  stream,  the  princess  and  her  husband  setting  sail 
for  the  happy  islands.  The  groves  were  full  of  nymphs, 
goddesses,  and  allegorical  figures,  in  the  most  bewilder- 
ingly  beautiful  of  poses.  The  lily  cups  held  a  fairy  sprite, 
great  creamy  magnolias  displayed  a  face  rapturously  lovely. 
He  ran  them  over  with  feverish  haste  and  eagerness,  while 
the  audience  sat  breathless.  There  she  was,  on  a  pedestal  — • 
a  Psyche  with  her  lamp,  in  that  wonderful,  listening,  wait- 


394  LOST  IN    A   GREAT    CITY. 

ing  attitude.  No  sculptor  could  have  make  her  more  pe* 
feet. 

The  vast  interior  swam  round  before  him.  Was  he  be- 
ing transported  to  enchanted  regions  ? 

He  remembered,  at  length,  that  the  play  was  over,  and 
the  densely  packed  audience  crowding  out.  Could  he  be- 
lieve anything  so  wild,  so  improbable,  as  that  he  had  found 
her,  Queen  Titania  ?  It  was  quite  absurd,  and  he  laughed 
aloud.  Yet  the  child  would  have  made  just  such  a  radi- 
ant girl.  Was  he  to  wait  the  slow  motions  of  this  great 
concourse,  who  stopped,  and  commented,  and  elbowed  ? 

He  rushed  through  a  side  door,  down  the  stairs,  climbed 
over  the  orchestra  seats,  gave  one  flying  leap  on  the  stage, 
and  pushed  aside  the  curtain  amid  an  endless  mass  of 
scenes  and  confusion. 

"No  strangers  admitted,"  exclaimed  a  gruff  voice.  "We 
can't  have  it.  'Gainst  all  the  rules." 

"I  must  see  the  manager  a  moment — n  he  looked  at 
his  programme  —  "  Mr.  Ritchie." 

**  I'm  not  sure  that  you  can.  Go  round  the  other  way 
to  the  office.  This  is  against  the  rule." 

"  My  business  is  very  urgent,  and  he  will  only  need  to 
answer  one  question.  It  can  take  but  a  moment." 

Something  in  Roger's  politely  persistent  air  seemed  to 
move  the  man,  against  his  will.  He  led  the  way,  grum- 
bling, avoiding  the  dressing-rooms,  though  nymphs,  and 
shepherds,  and  princes,  and  ordinary  mortals  appeared  in- 
extricably mixed. 

u  Wait  here,"  was  the  rather  rough  command. 

Roger  waited  until  he  almost  lost  his  patience. 

"  You  wanted  me  —  "a  voice  said,  presently,  as  he  was 
wandering  in  a  labyrinth  of  dreams. 

"  Ah,  pardon  my  intrusion.  It  is  to  ask  —  "  and  Roger 
studied  his  programme  again  —  "  if  you  know  anything 
about  this  Mademoiselle  Zanfretti.  That,  of  course,  is  a 
stage  nom  de  plume.  Is  her  real  name  Barretti  ?  " 


IS  IT  TOO  LATE.  395 

Ritchie  studied  the  handsome  stranger  before  him. 

"I  am  not  at  liberty  to  answer  any  questions  about 
Mam'selle  Zanfretti,"  he  said  at  length. 

"  But  that  is  so  simple,"  was  the  impatient  responsa 
«  Or  —  could  I  see  her  ?  " 

"  You  cannot.    I  think,  indeed,  she  has  gone  home." 

"  If  you  will  answer  that  question,  in  strictest  confi- 
dence, it  may  be  of  immense  importance  to  her.  If  she 
is  not  the  person,  that  ends  it." 

Ritchie  stroked  his  beard  thoughtfully 

"  Griffin,"  he  said,  "  take  this  gentleman  to  my  den,  and 
call  Madame  Denzil.  You  can  ask  her/  to  Roger. 

Roger's  heart  gave  a  great  thump.  It  seemed  to  him 
the  question  had  been  answered  in  the  affirmative  already. 
Had  he  really  found  her  —  little  Queenie?  He  murmured 
her  name  softly  in  the  solitude,  and  waited,  no  longer  im- 
patient. His  quest  had  certainly  been  crowned.  Now  he 
saw,  in  his  mind,  so  many  resemblances,  And  that  dainty, 
delicious  song !  Her  mother  was  a  singer,  and  she  had  in- 
herited that  »vith  her  other  gifts. 

Would  Madame  Denzil  never  come  ? 


TX)ST   IN   A    GREAT   CITY. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

AN     UNKNOWN     RIVAL. 

QUBENIH'S  tired  out,  throbbing  nerves  yielded  to 
Madame  Denzil's  soothing  treatment,  as  they  had  in  by- 
gone times  to  Dick  Bridger's.  She  fell  asleep,  and  Dolly 
had  not  the  heart  to  wake  her  until  it  was  absolutely  ne- 
cessary. She  was  bright  and  fresh  for  the  evening,  her 
soft  starry  eyes  gleaming  with  unwonted  splendor. 

"And  now,"  began  Dolly,  "I've  been  thinking  over  this 
vile  plot,  and  it  seems  to  me  the  best  and  wisest  course  is  to 
take  no  notice  at  all  of  it.  I'd  like  to  hire  a  brawny  Irish- 
man to  thrash  that  scoundrel  Winstead  to  a  jelly,  but  that 
would  make  a  scandal,  and  now  we  must  begin  to  consider 
Mr.  Grenville.  I  am  actually  amazed  at  you,  Queenie,  for 
I  think  the  young  man  must  be  in  earnest,  and  it  is  won- 
derful luck ;  but  then  there's  Kitty  Bell,  not  as  handsome 
as  you,  who  has  gone  to  be  a  great  and  real  lady  in  upper 
ten-dom.  But  I  must  see  him.  I  shall  be  your  self-ap- 
pointed guardian  in  love  matters,  and  if  he  is  not  all  on  the 
square  he  can  march." 

"  But  is  it  quite  right  ?  "  asked  Queenie,  timidly.  "  He 
is  rich,  and  his  family  are  grand,  and  I  am  only — " 

**  Lovely  enough  to  grace  any  station  in  society.  And 
fur  that  matter  who  is  going  to  know  of  this  bit  of  stage 
life !  There,  not  a  word,  modest  little  violet.  I'll  settle 
the  whole  matter." 

"And  you  will  take  me  to  Chicago?"  she  asked,  ear- 
nestly. "  I  would  like  to  get  away.  And  if  we  could  man- 
age —  not  to  say  anything  —  " 

"Of  course  we  can.     We  start  next  Tuesday.    Now 


AN   UNKNOWN   RIVAL.  397 

you  must  eat  a  little  supper,  and  then  we  will  be  off  to  the 
scene  of  our  labors,  practical  women  that  we  are." 

Mademoiselle  Zelie  was  quite  confounded  at  Queenie's 
self-possession.  She  did  not  seem  to  shun  her  in  the 
slightest  degree,  or  appear  conscious  that  any  incident  had 
occurred  to  disturb  the  ordinary  course  of  events.  Win- 
stead  had  not  joined  the  party  again,  so  she  was  ignorant 
of  the  termination.  She  really  had  not  the  courage,  inso- 
lent as  she  was,  to  broach  it,  especially  as  she  must  make 
an  opportunity.  And  the  next  evening  was  her  benefit  — 
perhaps  it  would  be  well  not  to  try  her  rival  too  far. 

Tip  was  promptly  on  the  spot  that  evening.  Queenie 
wished  Madame  Denzil  a  hurried  good-night,  and  flew  to 
him  with  inexpressible  relief. 

Some  one  else  stood  beside  her  with  a  quiet,  but  half 
imperious,  greeting.  A  thrill  sped  through  her  —  was  it 
terror  or  joy  ? 

"  Ah,  good  evening,  Mr.  Mullins,"  and  Harry  Grenville 
held  out  his  faultlessly  gloved  hand,  with  a  very  winsome 
cordiality.  "  Come,"  he  said,  in  a  lower  tone,  "  I  have  a 
hack  waiting  for  you.  There  are  to  be  no  more  risks." 

Why  was  it  not  pleasant  to  be  thus  appropriated  and 
cared  for  ?  Queenie  clung  closer  to  the  boy's  arm,  and  Tip 
flushed  with  a  strange  embarrassment,  hardly  knowing 
what  he  ought  to  do,  and  yet  feeling  quite  sure  that 
Queenie  did  not  mean  him  to  leave  her. 

Neither  did  Mr.  Grenville,  for  that  matter,  though  he 
was  all  impatience,  and  could  barely  tolerate  the  presence 
of  a  third  person.  But  he  was  generous  enough  not  to  be 
vexed  when  Tip  took  the  seat  beside  Queenie. 

"I  want  to  see  you  a  few  moments,"  he  whispered,  as 
they  alighted. 

She  ushered  him  into  the  small  parlor,  littered  with 
traces  of  the  ubiquitous  twins. 

"  Oh,  my  darling,"  he  cried,  how  cold,  how  far  away  you 
seem.  Can  you  not  trust  me  to  the  uttermost?  What 


398  LOST   IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 

shall  I  do  to  gain  your  entire  confidence  ?  Have  you  any 
friend  —  can  I  see  your  Miss  Madeira,  and  convince  her 
how  truly  earnest  and  honorable  my  intentions  are  ?  And 
I  have  brought  you  a  ring." 

"Oh,  no,  not  yet!"  And  she  shrank  back  in  dismay. 
M  And  have  you  —  " 

He  laughed  gaily. 

"  No,  I  have  not,"  he  said.  **  My  secret  was  so  precious 
that  I  wanted  to  gloat  over  it  a  while,  like  a  miser.  And 
Queenie,  your  pride  and  prudence  does  you  infinite  credit. 
Though  it  frets  me,  I  must  frankly  confess,  yet  I  would  not 
have  you  without  that  delicate  self-respect.  But  you  need 
not  fear.  And  you  will  wear  my  ring.  I  shall  not  feel 
that  you  are  safe  until  I  see  it  on  your  finger." 

"Not  now."  She  drew  her  hand  away  suddenly,  while 
a  deep  flush  overspread  her  brow.  "  Until  my  engage- 
ment ends  I  can  make  no  promise.  Nay,  do  not  pain  me 
by  persisting.  When  you  have  talked  this  matter  over 
with  your  family  you  may  look  upon  it  in  a  different  light. 
I  am  poor;  I  have  been  used  to  common  ways  and 
common  people  all  my  life.  I  have  no  accomplish- 
ments. I  —  " 

"  Queenie,  you  shall  not  underrate  yourself.  You  have 
your  marvellous  beauty ;  your  voice  that,  with  a  little  cul- 
tivation, would  be  remarkable,  and  you  do  possess  the 
refinements  and  graces  of  a  sphere  far  above  your  present 
station.  Where  you  can  have  acquired  them  is  a  mystery, 
unless  indeed  they  were  your  natural  birthright.  To-day 
you  would  compare  favorably  with  my  sisters,  which  is  no 
mean  praise,  and  as  for  accomplishments,  —  why,  I  could 
teach  you  myself.  We  would  be  married,  and  go  to  Eu- 
rope immediately.  You  should  be  a  little  school-girl,  and 
I  the  tutor;  and  the  more  ignorant  you  were,  the  more 
delight  there  would  be  in  teaching  you.  And  then,  some 
day,  to  the  great  surprise  of  everybody,  you  would  blossom 
out,  a  lovely  and  fascinating  woman,  and  every  one  would 


AN   UNKNOWN   RIVAL.  399 

be  wild  to  know  you.  Then  by  the  time  we  came  back 
they  would  all  be  glad  enough  to  receive  you.  And  I 
don't  need  to  marry  for  money.  There  is  a  fabulous  for- 
tune in  the  Grenville  family,  that  came  from  England ;  we 
were  some  of  the  fortunate  '  lost  heirs,' "  and  he  smiled. 

She  was  greatly  moved  by  all  this  generosity,  and  the 
pure,  proud  affection  beaming  in  his  eyes.  And  yet  — 
why  did  not  her  heart  leap  and  thrill  ?  Was  it  caution 
merely  ? 

"  You  are  so  good,  so  kind  w  —  her  voice  faltered  over 
the  words,  and  she  had  much  ado  to  keep  the  tears  from 
her  eyes.  "  But  if  you  would  only  wait.  I  am  so  tired. 
I  seem  to  need  all  my  strength  for  my  duties  this  week. 
I  can  hardly  think  what  is  right  or  wise  — • " 

They  had  both  been  standing,  but  now  she  dropped  on  a 
chair,  quite  overcome  with  the  tense  strain.  Her  face  was 
lily-like  in  its  paleness,  her  soft,  imploring  eyes  were  raised 
timidly,  her  rarely-curved  lip  quivered  as  if  it  were  shap- 
ing itself  to  a  sob. 

"  Oh,  my  darling,  how  thoughtless  and  cruel  I  am ! "  and 
he  threw  himself  at  her  feet.  "  Yes,  you  have  been  sorely 
tried  and  shaken  about,  my  beautiful,  delicate,  white  rwn«, 
and  I  will  not  add  to  your  discomfort.  Only  say  once  that 
you  love  me  —  " 

Her  eyes  swam  in  tears.  So  entrancingly  lovely  did  she 
look  that  he  clasped  her  to  his  heart. 

"  My  dear  Queenie,  I  will  wait,"  he  exclaimed,  in  a  ten- 
der, deeply-moved  voice.  "You  will  see  that  I  can  be 
patient.  A  week  is  not  so  very  long,  and  I  shall  see  you 
every  evening,  at  least." 

"  Thank  you,"  she  murmured, 

"  I  will  not  ask  you  to  wear  my  ring  until  then,  though 
I  feel  as  if  some  untoward  fate  might  wrest  you  from  me," 
and  he  kissed  the  soft,  fair  hand  with  passionate  tenderness. 
"  And  now,  Queenie,  did  you  tell  Madame  Denzil  about 
that  dastardly  plot?  What  did  she  advise?" 


400  LOST  IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 

Queenie  was  thankful  to  have  the  conversation  take 
some  other  turn,  and  repeated  her  friend's  counsel. 

"  Yes,  that  is  the  wisest  course.  But  I  shall  keep  close 
watch  of  the  scoundrel.  If  he  dares  to  utter  one  boasting 
word,  he  answers  to  me,  sharp  and  quick.  I  am  so  glad  it 
is  to  be  all  ended  soon.  Providence  certainly  sent  back 
this  Captain  Mullins  in  the  very  nick  of  time.  You  cannot 
plead  any  further  duty  to  them,  you  heroic  little  girl ! " 

Her  tired  face  moved  him  so  much  that  he  soon  bade 
her  adieu,  though  with  reluctance  in  every  word  and 
gesture. 

Late  as  it  was,  Tip,  Moppet,  and  Miss  Madeira  were 
waiting  for  their  darling.  The  events  of  the  day  had  been 
too  great  to  allow  of  going  to  bed  quietly  without  another 
discussion. 

"  Oh,  Queenie  ! "  cried  Tip,  with  honest  tears  in  his  boy- 
ish eyes,  "  he's  handsome  and  a  great  swell,  a  real  grand 
one,  I  mean  ;  none  of  your  stuck-up,  shoddy  fellows.  But 
I  can't  bear  to  think  that  you  will  go  away  and  forget  us. 
If  I  was  a  man,  and  could  earn  heaps  of  money,  you  never 
should.  Or  if  pa  was  rich !  But  I  don't  wonder,  for,  after 
all,  you  have  been  almost  a  slave  to  us,  and  I've  been 
rough  and  careless  and  selfish,  but  I  never  shall  be  again, — 
only  how  can  we  give  you  up  ? " 

She  smiled  through  her  tears,  and  twined  her  soft  arms 
about  his  neck. 

"  Don't  trouble,  Tip  dear,"  she  said  in  her  tenderest  tone. 
u  I  have  a  presentiment  that  —  of  course  he  does  love  me ; 
but  there  are  so  many  things  —  his  family  would  oppose 
such  a  marriage,  and  I  don't  feel  it  in  my  bones,  as  auntie 
Madeira  says,  that  it  will  ever  happen.  I  may  belong  to 
you  years  and  years.  There  is  only  one  thing :  I  want  to 
go  to  Chicago  next  week  with  Madame  Denzil,  for  a  little 
rest  and  change,  and  to  be  away  from  it  all.  But  oh,  to 
think  of  your  dear  father ! " 

Then  they  all  cried  again,  and  auntie  Madeira  talked  in 


AN   UNKNOWN   RIVAL.  401 

her  disjointed  fashion,  going  over  the  old  time  when  she 
had  found  Queenie  sleeping  in  the  corner  of  the  porch. 
She  always  bewailed  her  remissness  on  this  point.  Conse- 
quently it  was  after  midnight  before  the  house  was  quiet, 
and  they  were  all  in  bed. 

Queenie  felt  that  she  had  gained  a  brief  reprieve.  Why 
should  she  shrink  from  this  sweet  love-dream  ?  In  a  con- 
fused way  she  tried  to  remember  the  feelings  and  senti- 
ments of  her  favorite  heroines,  but  there  seemed  nothing 
to  apply  to  her  case.  Was  it  the  strangeness,  added  to  the 
certainty  that  the  Grenville  family  would  oppose  such  an 
alliance  and  consider  her  a  shameful,  designing  girl,  who 
had  deliberately  entrapped  this  unsuspecting  young  man  ? 

Harry  Grenville  wended  his  way  homeward  to  the  aris- 
tocratic hotel  where  the  family  were  staying.  He  had 
established  for  himself  the  utmost  liberty  of  coming  and 
going;  indeed,  he  often  went  directly  to  his  room  without 
stopping  in  the  family  parlor.  But  to-night  the  door  was 
opened,  and  a  soft  voice  said : 

«  Harry ! " 

He  turned,  rather  impatient  of  the  interruption. 

"  Oh,  is  that  you,  grandmamma  ?     Is  any  one  ill  ?" 

"No,  my  dear.  Come  in  a  while.  Where  have  you 
been  ?  " 

The  voice  was  at  its  sweetest  estate,  and  the  question 
was  asked  as  carelessly  as  if  its  purport  were  indifferent. 

"  Oh,"  he  returned  gayly,  "  I  have  been  listening  to  the 
enchantment  of  that  Enchanted  Princess.  I  never  did  hear 
such  music.  And  this  week  finishes  it.  The  houses  are 
crowded  to  suffocation." 

He  leaned  gracefully  in  the  doorway,  as  if  he  meant  to 
linger  but  a  moment. 

"Come  in;"  and  she  took  his  hand  in  hers.  "I  have 
something  to  tell  you,  Harry." 

"  Well."     But  his  dream  of  Queenie  was  so  sweet  that 
he  did  not  care  to  have  it  disturbed. 
26 


402  LOST  IN   A  GREAT   CITT. 

"  Mr.  Byington  was  here  this  evening.  Harry,  there  is 
really  no  doubt  but  that  you  will  have  him  for  a  brother. 
A  most  elegant  and  unexceptionable  young  man ;  and  the 
family,  from  what  I  can  hear,  is  irreproachable." 

"  Oh,  they  are  delightful  people.  Mrs.  Byington  is  a 
perfect  lady.  Lawrence  just  adores  his  mother.  Well, 
Blanche  will  be  as  fortunate  as  Lucia.  Really,  grandmere, 
your  young  ladies  do  you  great  credit." 

"Yes."  Yet  her  eyes  were  fixed  a  little  uneasily  upon 
him.  "  Indeed,  I  have  always  said  that  with  proper  train- 
ing young  girls  seldom  make  either  a  mesalliance  or  a  ro- 
mantic scandal,  which  is  my  abhorrence.  Yet  one  always 
feels  a  little  careful.  And  now  it  only  remains  for  you  to 
choose  wisely  and  honorably,  and  I  shall  be  quite  content 
with  my  children." 

She  was  such  a  handsome  and  still  fascinating  old 
woman,  and  she  looked  like  a  duchess  of  royal  line,  in  her 
soft  flowing  silk  and  rare  old  lace.  A  tea-rose  at  her  throat, 
too,  and  a  sprig  of  pungently  sweet  heliotrope. 

Harry  Grenville  drew  a  long  breath.  Was  not  this  an 
auspicious  moment?  If  he  could  manage  the  affair  in  his 
own  way  he  would  say  nothing,  but  marry  Queenie  next 
week  or  next  month,  and  take  her  abroad,  allowing  all  par- 
ties to  get  reconciled  at  their  leisure.  But  Queenie's  pride 
and  resolution  stood  in  the  way.  He  felt  that  to  win  her 
he  must  be  the  soul  of  honor  himself.  And  since  he  did 
mean  to  make  her  his  wife,  it  would  be  better,  perhaps,  to 
have  the  fight  now. 

"  At  least,  grandmamma,  you  can  depend  upon  my  mar- 
rying some  one  worthy  of  the  highest  regard,"  he  answered 
with  quiet  dignity. 

Her  keen  eyes  studied  his  face,  though  they  seemed  to 
look  beyond  it.  Had  he  really  entangled  himself?  She 
had  begun  to  suspect  something  of  late. 

"Your  mother  and  I  have  hoped  —  we  like  Miss  Ashe- 
croft  so  much." 


AN   UNKNOWN   RIVAL.  403 

It  was  thrown  out  as  a  net  to  catch  the  unwary,  and 
she  listened  breathlessly  for  the  response. 

"  It  will  not  be  Miss  Ashecroft." 

"Harry!  Who  then?  Have  you  really  made  an  election  ?" 

He  started  suddenly,  and  began  to  pace  the  floor.  She 
was  at  his  side  in  an  instant,  her  arm  linked  in  his,  and 
clinging  to  him  with  a  sweet,  dependent  fondness. 

"  Harry,"  she  cried,  with  a  pang  of  anxiety,  "  tell  me  the 
truth!  You  have  seen  some  one,  and  she  is  not —  But 
you  cannot  demean  yourself,  your  family,  surely ! " 

"  Grandmamma,"  he  began  frankly,  "I  ought  to  tell  you, 
I  will  tell  you,  and  you  must  not  be  angry  but  help  me,  for 
my  mind  is  made  up  so  fully.  I  may  have  had  fancies  be- 
fore, but  this  I  am  assured  is  love.  I  have  met  the  woman, 
the  girl  rather,  that  I  wish  to  marry." 

"Well?"  graciously,  holding  the  strong  feelings  and 
temper  in  abeyance. 

"  She  is  so  matchlessly  beautiful,  so  sweet,  so  good  and 
noble — " 

"  Have  I  seen  her?" 

The  quick,  crimson  flush  did  not  escape  the  sharp,  old 
eyes. 

"You  do  not  know  her,  of  course,"  he  answered  eva- 
sively. "  She  is  not  in  our  circle,  but  she  is  worthy  of  the 
highest  place  there.  If  I  could  only  tell  you  of  her  good- 
ness, her  heroism,  her  simple,  lovely  truth." 

"  You  would  think  that  of  any  one  you  loved,  Harry. 
You  have  a  peculiarly  trusting  disposition.  Am  I  right  to 
suspect  that  she  is  poor  —  obscure  ?  " 

There  was  a  touch  of  rather  stinging  bitterness  in  the 
tone.  These  indeed  were  sins  in  her  world. 

"  She  is  poor,"  he  said  bravely ;  "  and  certainly,  in  thia 
sense,  obscurity  is  no  detriment.  For  the  opportunity  that 
has  been  hers  she  is  welt  informed ;  she  has  a  most  ex 
quisite  voice,  and  could  be  very  easily  accomplished." 

"  Have  you  spoken  to  her  ?  " 


404  LOST  IN  A   GREAT  CITY. 

w  I  have,"  was  the  reply.  w  I  am  engaged  ; "  and  he  nt 
tered  the  words  with  a  touch  of  tender,  manly  pride. 

tt  I  must  say,  Harry,  that  I  think  it  would  have  been 
well  to  have  taken  a  little  counsel  on  the  subject,  and  not 
have  been  made  the  dupe  of  some  pretty  girl,  with  a  de- 
signing family  to  cheer  her  on  in  her  attempt  to  entrap  a 
man  every  way  her  superior." 

"  Oh,  grandmamma,"  and  now  he  laughed  with  gay 
cheerfulness,  though  he  was  a  good  deal  annoyed,  "  I  am 
the  dupe  of  neither  girl  nor  family.  In  the  first  place  she 
has  no  family.  She  lives  with  some  people ;  and  I  think 
the  obligation  has  been  all  on  their  side.  I  hardly  believe 
she  could  have  been  won  away  from  them  while  they 
needed  her,  but  there  has  occurred  a  change  in  their  cir- 
cumstances which  will  give  her  a  little  liberty.  And  then 
I  could  hardly  make  her  promise :  she  is  as  much  of  an 
aristocrat  as  yourself,  and  insisted  that  I  should  explain  my 
intentions  to  my  own  family  before  she  would  even  consent 
to  be  engaged." 

u  Then  you  are  not  —  " 

"lam  bound  in  honor,  as  I  think  you  will  admit;  at 
least  you  would  BO  consider  a  young  man  who  had  spoken 
to  my  sisters.  And  now,  grandmamma,  let  us  come  to  an 
understanding.  I  am  aware  that  this  will  not  please  you 
or  my  mother  at  first,  but  when  you  come  to  know  her  you 
will  be  satisfied.  As  for  her  birth,  what  does  it  matter? 
She  has  no  family,  and  I  shall  raise  her  to  my  station. 
And  surely  I  do  not  need  to  marry  for  wealth." 

Madame  Grenville  was  silent  for  several  moments,  as 
they  paced  up  and  down  the  apartment.  This  was  not 
merely  boyish  enthusiasm,  but  rather  the  quietude  of  a 
man's  deep-settled  purpose.  She  might  argue  endlessly, 
she  might  command,  entreat  —  ah,  there  was  one  point  she 
could  try ! 

"Suppose  your  grandfather  does  not  think  so,  Harry? 
The  fortune  is  large,  to  be  sure.  But  he  might  feel  dis- 


AN   UNKNOWN  RIVAL.  405 

posed  not  to  be  so  generous  to  a  disobedient  grandson 
who  sets  his  wishes  at  naught,"  and  her  voice  rang  with 
a  touch  of  sharpness. 

"  Grandmamma,  I  know  this ;  it  will  all  be  as  yon  say 
in  the  end.  Mamma  may  make  a  time  at  first,  and  cry, 
and  grandpapa  may  not  approve,  but  if  you  decide  that 
there  shall  be  no  great  fuss,  there  will  be  none." 

"And  you  expect  me  to  range  myself  on  your  side? 
Well,  Harry,  you  are  mistaken.  This  is  a  foolish  fancy, 
and  would  lead  you  into  a  step  that  ten  years  hence  you 
will  be  ashamed  of,  and  rue  to  your  life's  end.  Take  a 
little  time  to  consider.  Your  grandfather  did  not  hesitate 
to  disinherit  his  own  daughter  for  a  wretched,  low  mar- 
riage." 

"  This  would  be  neither  wretched  nor  low.  And  I  have 
resolved.  This  girl's  only  crime  is  lack  of  wealth,  which 
is  nothing  in  my  eyes.  Why,  if  it  comes  to  that,  I  can 
work  for  her,  and  would  do  it  gladly.  Let  us  talk  no 
more  about  it  for  a  month  or  two,  for  I  would  not  will- 
ingly annoy  or  offend  you." 

"  Harry,  promise  me  one  thing,"  she  cried,  seizing  both 
hands  in  hers.  "  Swear  to  me  that  you  will  not  marry  her 
clandestinely." 

"  She  would  not  allow  me  to,"  he  answered,  haughtily. 
"  I  had  promised  her  I  would  tell  you,  and  I  have  told, 
and  I  think  when  you  see  how  in  earnest  I  am  you  will 
yield,  or  if  not  —  " 

"  Will  you  promise  me  to  wait  one  year  ?  That  is  not 
much,  surely,  but  it  will  test  the  affection  on  both  sides." 

"  I  will  promise  you  that,  gladly.  And  now,  dear  grand- 
mamma, though  you  cannot  help  being  disappointed,  let 
us  go  on  as  before,  and  forgive  me  that  I  cannot  suit  you 
in  everything." 

"  I  accept  your  sacred  word." 

"  Good-night,  then.  It  is  late,  and  you  will  lose  all  youi 
beauty  sleep." 


406  LOST  IN  A   GREAT  CITT. 

He  kissed  her,  and  was  gone.  Once  in  his  own  room, 
he  lighted  a  cigar  and  threw  himself  in  an  easy-chair.  It 
had  not  been  so  difficult  as  he  fancied.  Of  course  they 
would  all  see  how  resolute  he  was,  and  after  the  girls  were 
well  married  —  it  was  a  wise  move  promising  to  wait  a 
year,  and  he  smiled.  Queenie  should  never  go  on  the 
stage  again.  He  would  get  Mrs.  Denzil  to  place  her  in 
some  school,  where  he  could  visit  her  occasionally  —  they 
would  correspond,  and  be  true  to  one  another  always. 

Madame  Grenville  sat  where  he  had  left  her,  with 
clinched  hands,  and  a  face  not  pleasant  to  behold.  She 
had  circumvented  one  or  two  youthful  fancies  not  quite 
to  her  taste,  and  it  would  go  hard  with  her  if  she  did  not 
find  a  way  to  manage  this,  and  him  also.  Who  was  the 
girl  ?  She  must  strike  her  blow  in  secret,  and  so  it  was 
best  not  to  be  very  angry  with  her  grandson,  but  just  keep 
up  a  little  impression  of  having  been  hurt,  offended. 

Finally,  having  settled  her  plans,  she  went  to  bed,  trou- 
bled by  no  pangs  of  conscience. 

Before  Harry  was  up  the  next  morning  she  had  sum- 
moned the  faithful  factotum  of  their  small  retinue. 

"  James,"  she  said,  "  I  am  rather  troubled  about  Master 
Harry.  If  he  were  a  gay,  dissolute  young  man,  one  would 
hardly  care  to  inquire  into  his  doings,  or  desire  to  know 
anything  that  would  reflect  upon  his  family  or  position. 
He  spends  a  good  deal  of  his  time,  evenings,  somewhere. 
I  want  you  to  learn  for  me  in  what  company." 

The  sleek,  immaculate  African  bowed  quietly. 

"  You  have  no  idea  ?  " 

"  He  goes  a  good  deal  to  Palace  Garden.** 

"  And  those  '  Houries '  are  very  tempting.  Well,  young 
men  will  be  young  men,  and  such  things  seldom  last.  Still, 
I  would  like  to  know ; "  and  she  slipped  a  bank  note  into 
the  man's  hand. 

He  bowed  as  imperturbably  as  before. 

Madame  Grenville  turned  ashen  pale,  and   bit  her  lip 


AN  UNKNOWN  RIVAL.  407 

until  viie  intense  pain  warned  her.  Would  he  dare  marry 
an  actress,  —  a  dancer,  maybe  !  Ah,  if  it  was  so,  then 
surely  any  means  were  lawful  that  snatched  him  from 
destruction. 

The  next  morning  James  sought  his  mistress. 

She  was  used  to  reading  faces.  "You  learned  some- 
thing," she  said  in  a  positive  tone.  "  There  is  a  girl  in  the 
case." 

"  There  is.  A  Mademoiselle  Zanfretti,  one  of  the  favor- 
ite dancers  in  the  Enchanted  Princess.  Her  real  name  is 
Barretti,  and  she  lives  with  some  people  by  the  name  of 
Mullins,  at  Street.  He  took  her  some  flowers  yes- 
terday morning,  and  attended  her  home  at  night  in  a 
hack." 

"  Very  well.  You  are  always  faithful,  James.  I  am 
glad  we  are  to  leave  the  city  so  soon,  for  I  do  not  ap- 
prove of  these  entanglements." 

A  stage-dancer!  Ah,  she  had  moved  in  the  matter 
none  too  soon.  All  this  girl's  honor  and  nobleness  had 
been  put  on  to  fasten  her  victim  the  more  securely  in  her 
net !  Once  married,  and  that  certainly  was  what  she 
aimed  at,  they,  the  Grenvilles,  might  whistle  to  the  winds. 

Oh,  had  he,  reared  so  carefully,  trained  in  all  ways  of 
family  dignity  and  pride ;  had  he  no  greater  regard  for  his 
blue  blood  and  faultless  lineage?  And  yet,  was  it  his 
fault  altogether?  The  girl  was  beautiful  and  seductive 
as  a  siren.  Her  few  years  of  girlhood  had  doubtless  been 
used  with  the  one  aim  to  fascinate,  whether  on  or  off  the 
stage.  To  marry  some  innocent  youth,  so  that  he  had 
plenty  of  money ;  to  graft  herself  in  amongst  decency  and 
honor ;  she  whose  whole  being  was  a  blot  and  a  disgrace, 
except  just  there  on  the  stage ;  a  soulless  machine  of  fair 
flesh  and  blood,  whose  duty  \vas  to  enchant  people  nightly, 
and  keep  out  of  their  way  by  daylight,  like  a  foul,  noisome 
thing ! 

She  could  be  bought  by  money,  —  there  was  no  question 


408  LOST  IN   A   GREAT  CITY. 

about  that ;  all  of  her  order  could.  It  was  the  money, 
not  the  poor  dupe  Harry,  and  the  grand  dame  smiled 
with  dreary  scorn.  So  if  she  should  outbid  him  — 

She  had  bis  promise,  and  she  could  trust  him  to  keep 
it.  Once  detach  him  from  her  and  he  would  soon  forget. 
Yet  there  was  not  a  moment  to  lose.  This  very  morn- 
ing she  must  see  her. 

Very  regal  and  sweet  was  Madame  Grenville  through 
the  morning  meal.  You  would  hardly  have  guessed  that 
she  was  dying  with  impatience  to  have  it  ended.  There 
was  a  fine  shade  of  manner  toward  Harry  that  he  alone 
understood. 

"Poor  Grandmamma,"  he  mused.  "I  suppose  the 
thought  is  terrible,  and  I  am  glad  I  did  not  tell  her  the 
worst.  I  think  I  can  persuade  Queenie  to  leave  the  stage, 
and  no  one  will  ever  need  to  know." 

"  Harry,"  she  said,  "  your  grandpapa  would  like  you  to 
go  over  some  papers  with  him  this  morning."  Then,  bend- 
ing her  stately  head,  she  added,  "Be  patient  with  him,  dear, 
for  sometime  you  may  try  Ms  patience  and  love  to  the  ut- 
termost." 

She  dressed  herself  in  her  plainest  attire,  and  went  out 
to  find  a  woman  who  was  said  to  mend  laces  exquisitely. 


MADAME  GBENVILLE'S  FOKTUNATE  MOVE.        409 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

MADAME  GRENVILLE'S  FORTUNATE  MOVE. 

QUEENIE  had  still  refused,  the  evening  before,  to  wear  hei 
lover's  ring.  Not  until  she  was  through  with  her  present 
engagement,  and  free  from  the  stage,  would  she  be  bound 
by  any  promise.  But  the  anxiety  wore  her  greatly.  That 
her  lover's  family  would  object  strenuously  to  such  an 
alliance  she  well  knew,  and  with  her  strict  sense  of  justice 
she  could  not  find  it  in  her  heart  to  blame  them. 

She  had  slept  late,  worn  out  with  mental  as  well  as 
physical  fatigue.  Faithful  Peggy  proved  such  a  good  friend 
that  it  was  no  longer  necessary  for  her  to  assist  Miss  Ma- 
deira in  the  petty  household  tasks.  Moppet  had  prepared 
a  cunning  little  breakfast  this  morning.  Indeed,  the  chil- 
dren all  began  to  vie  with  each  other  as  to  which  could  do 
the  most  for  Queenie.  Cassy  insisted  that  his  headless 
horse  should  be  there  to  welcome  her,  and  Polly  had 
brought  his  rag-baby,  the  delight  of  his  life,  whose  com- 
plexion was  renewed  every  Saturday,  but  who  still  per- 
sisted in  taking  on  the  hues  of  Africa. 

She  lingered  over  it,  wondering.  She  had  begged  Harry 
Grenville  not  to  come  this  morning,  and  with  the  incon- 
sistency of  the  feminine  mind,  she  was  already  speculating 
whether  obedience  would  please  her  best.  She  clung  to 
his  friendship  fondly,  but  did  she  really  want  his  love  ? 
Marriage  t  At  that  she  shrank  and  shivered,  longing  to 
understand  her  own  heart. 

Moppet  kissed  her  good-by  and  was  off.  Pug  wished  he 
could  dance,  —  though  he  didn't  want  to  be  a  girl,  —  so  that 
he  needn't  go  to  school.  But  they  were  off  presently,  and 


410  LOST  IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 

Queenie  went  ap-stairs,  to  look  over  her  wardrobe  and  see 
how  much  of  it  would  be  presentable. 

There  was  a  quick,  authoritative  ring  at  the  door.  That 
was  not  Harry,  so  she  did  not  stir  until  Miss  Madeira  put 
her  head  in  the  apartment. 

"  There  is  a  lady  to  see  you,  Queenie,"  she  announced. 
"  Such  a  grand-looking  person,  though  her  dress  isn't  won- 
derful, and  coming  on  foot,  too ;  but  she  does  look  as  if  she 
had  just  stepped  out  of  a  carriage." 

"  Did  she  send  any  name  ?  "  asked  the  girl. 

"  No.  It  was  some  business,  she  said,  and  that  she 
wouldn't  detain  you  long." 

It  could  not  be  Mam'selle  Zelie,  and  she  inquired  if  the 
visitor  were  young. 

"  Oh,  no ; "  and  Miss  Madeira  laughed  in  a  surprised  sort 
of  cackle.  "  Why,  her  hair's  whiter'n  mine,  only  there's 
more  of  it,  and  she's  handsome,  too." 

*'  Very  well.     I  will  be  there  in  a  minute." 

Queenie  made  herself  presentable,  and  went  down.  The 
room  was  not  in  a  glare  of  light,  but  the  youthful  figure 
entering  it  startled  the  visitor,  who  did  not  rise  from  the 
sofa,  but  inclined  her  head  stiffly.  A  haughty  head,  too, 
whose  every  motion  was  imperious,  and  whose  piercing  eyes 
sent  a  shiver  through  Queenie.  One  of  those  unaccount- 
able touches  of  repulsion  stole  over  the  child,  a  presenti- 
ment that  she  would  find  an  enemy  in  this  handsome, 
brilliant  old  lady,  whom  she  seemed  to  have  known  and 
expected  all  her  life. 

"  Miss  Barretti,  I  believe,"  in  a  cold,  yet  peculiarly  fasci- 
nating voice. 

Queenie  responded  in  the  affirmative. 

"  And  I  am  Madame  Grenville  ! " 

If  she  expected  the  announcement  to  overwhelm  the 
fair,  slender  young  girl  before  her,  she  was  quite  mistaken. 
A  wondering  color  fluttered  slowly  over  the  sweet  face, 
but  the  clear,  brown  eyes  never  wavered.  Strangely 


MADAME  GRENVILLE'S  FORTUNATE  MOVE.        411 

enough  Queenie  could  not  even  make  herself  feel  sur. 
prised  at  thus  meeting  her  antagonist.  That  there  should 
be  dissension  between  them  was  inevitable. 

"  I  am  Madame  Grenville,"  the  visitor  repeated,  with  a 
more  decisive  expression  of  hauteur.  "  I  think  you  know 
my  grandson,  Mr.  Harry  Grenville." 

"  Yes,"  Queenie  replied,  in  a  quiet  manner,  so  faultless  in 
its  air  of  elegance  that  Madame  Grenville  positively  stared, 
and  took  a  survey  of  her  that  was  insolent,  until  it  met 
the  clear,  truth-compelling  eyes.  Then  her  own  wavered 
a  little,  her  pitiless  purpose  seemed  to  undergo  a  compul- 
sory change. 

"  My  dear  young  lady,"  she  began,  in  a  tone  that  could 
be  so  delusively  sweet  and  winsome,  "  recent  events  have 
gone  far  toward  making  us  natural  enemies,  and  yet  I 
come  to  you  in  a  spirit  of  sincere  friendship.  I  may  have 
some  painful  things  to  say,  but  you  look  as  if  I  could  trust 
somewhat  to  your  good  sense.  Sit  down  here  beside  me, 
and  let  us  go  over  the  matter  in  a  clear-sighted,  unpreju- 
diced way." 

Queenie  sat  down  in  a  confused,  helpless  manner.  Ma- 
dame Grenville  noted  the  exquisitely  lovely  face,  that  had  no 
need  of  the  adventitious  aids  of  art,  the  sloping  shoulders, 
as  perfect  as  those  of  some  sculptured  nymph,  the  small, 
white  hands  drooping  in  her  lap,  the  accidental  attitude  so 
perfect  in  its  grace,  and  for  an  instant,  like  her  grandson, 
she  was  almost  won  by  a  nameless  fascination,  and  was 
absolutely  compelled  to  rouse  herself. 

«  My  grandson  has  confessed  his  passion  to  me,"  she  be- 
gan, with  an  unconscious  sharpness,  the  natural  result 
of  having  been  won  against  her  will.  "Unlike  most 
young  men,  he  was  honorable  enough  to  propose  mar- 
riage, but  how  you  pretty  young  girls  can  place  any  faith 
in  a  man's  word,  given  under  the  spell  of  infatuation,  and 
forgotten  in  a  few  months,  puzzles  me,  except  that  I  sup- 
pose in  most  cases  you  are  as  ready  for  the  change  as 


412  LOST  IN   A   GREAT    CITY. 

they.  And  it  is  about  this  very  point  that  I  have  cotne  to 
speak." 

"  He  asked  me  to  marry  him,"  Queenie  began,  with  the 
perfect  dignity  of  refinement.  "I  was  sorry,  because  —  " 

"Sorry!"  echoed  Madame  Grenville  in  amazement. 

It  seemed  as  if  some  sudden  revelation  had  flashed  upon 
Queenie.  What  love  was  like  she  did  not  know,  but  she 
understood  now  by  a  fast  dawning,  womanly  prescience, 
that  her  feeling  for  Harry  Grenville  was  not  the  absorbing 
passion  poets  had  pictured,  or  for  which  women  had  bravely 
suffered  and  died. 

"  Yes,"  she  made  answer ;  "  if  I  could  love '  him  as  he 
wishes  to  be  loved  — " 

"And  yet  you  have  allowed  yourself  to  become  engaged 

—  you  have  him  fast  in  your  net,  and  consider  yourself 
free !  "  exclaimed  the  elder  lady,  angrily. 

"  I  think  he  will  tell  you  that  I  have  refused  to  consider 
it  an  engagement  at  present,"  Queenie  said  bravely,  though 
her  face  flushed  with  the  tumultuous  crimson  blood,  and 
every  pulse  quivered  in  indignation.  M  And  it  was  because 

—  I  was  not  sure  that  I  loved  him.     It  was  all  so  sudden 
and  strange." 

Was  this  girl  acting  ?  Never  in  her  life  had  Madame 
Grenville  been  more  puzzled. 

"And  so  you  proposed  that  he  should  wait,"  the  lady 
went  on,  scornfully ;  "  but  you  did  not  let  him  slip  out  of 
your  net.  You  were  quite  too  wary  for  that." 

M  He  is  free : "  and  Queenie  did  not  quail  beneath  the 
glance  of  those  eagle  eyes.  "If  I  loved  him  as  people 
sometimes  do,  I  should  be  brave  enough  to  marry  him  in 
the  face  of  all  opposition." 

She  rose  and  stood  before  her,  conquering  by  her  simple 
truth,  with  honor  written  in  every  line  of  her  face. 

"  Pardon  me,  my  child,"  Madame  Grenville  hurriedly  said. 
u  It  is  so  seldom  that  young  women  of  your  class  have  any 
sentiment  of  honor  or  propriety  that  you  must  excuse  my 


MADAME  GRENVILLE'S  FORTUNATE  MOVE.        413 

astonishment,  my  incredulity.  I  recognize  that  you  are 
superior  to  your  station  in  this  respect ;  and  since  you  do 
not  love  my  grandson,  —  though  I  must  say  that  you  have 
iuspired  him  with  a  most  positive  belief  in  your  regard,  — 
we  may  be  able  to  discuss  the  matter  more  amicably.  I  can 
truly  say  that  such  a  marriage  would  not  only  be  terrible 
to  us,  but  to  him." 

The  young  girl  made  no  answer.  The  elder  continued, 
after  a  moment's  pause  — 

"  Doubtless  you  are  aware  that  the  Grenvilles  have  not 
only  wealth,  but  birth  and  station.  Ours  is  one  of  the  pure 
old  Southern  families,  who  are  truly  the  nobility  of  the  land. 
It  has  been  kept  the  more  exclusive  because  any  offence 
against  its  purity,  such  as  a  mes  alliance,  has  been  at  once 
interdicted,  and  the  offenders  disowned.  My  husband  dis- 
carded his  only  daughter  for  marrying  the  man  of  her 
choice,  who  was  not  approved  by  him.  She  died  miserably, 
in  poverty  and  exile.  Had  there  been  children  they  would 
have  been  placed  in  some  institution,  and  brought  up  in  the 
sphere  of  life  their  unfortunate  mother  selected  for  them." 

Queenie  shivered  a  little  at  the  thought  of  this  terrible, 
obdurate  man. 

"  Harry's  father  was  not  so  forgetful  of  the  duty  he  owed 
his  family.  He  is  dead,  or  I  think  Harry  would  hardly 
have  dared  to  venture  upon  such  a  step.  But  his  grand- 
father's pride  is  in  no  whit  abated.  To-day  the  punish- 
ment would  be  just  as  swift." 

She  studied  the  fair  young  face  keenly  in  this  pause.  It 
was  immovable,  so  she  resumed : 

"  You  could  marry  him  privately.  He  is  of  age,  and  can 
throw  off  authority,  family  ties,  the  affection  of  those  who 
have  loved  him  so  long  and  so  well.  But  his  wife  would 
never,  never  be  received  by  any  member  of  the  family. 
She  would  estrange  him  from  those  who  had  the  first 
claim ;  she  would  not  only  drag  him  to  her  own  level,  but 
condemn  him  to  the  bitter  straits  of  poverty.  His  educa- 


414  LOST   IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 

tion  is  such  as  befits  a  gentleman,  only  —  yon  would  not 
be  as  helpless  yourself,  as  he  would  in  such  a  position. 
If  you  married  him,  and  he  lost  everything  else,  when  he 
felt  the  need  of  the  luxuries,  the  ease  and  delight  of  his 
past  life,  the  love  that  has  surrounded  him  since  his  very 
birth,  the  friends,  the  society,  everything  in  fact,  could 
your  brief  passion  make  amends?  Nay,  he  would  turn  and 
curse  you  for  having  thus  destroyed  his  life." 

Queenie  saw  the  vivid  picture.  In  a  dim  way  she  had 
dreamed  it  over,  and  doubted  if  she  could  make  amends 
for  all  he  must  lose. 

"  That  would  be  the  result.  I  place  it  before  you  so  that 
you  may  see  it,  and  have  no  ignorance  to  plead  afterward. 
And  now,  if  you  are  truly  in  earnest  in  wisely  refusing  him, 
I  think  I  can  make  it  worth  your  while  to  do  so.  You 
would  not  become  rich  by  marrying  him,  for  the  fortune  is 
in  his  grandfather's  hands,  and  Harry  has  two  sisters.  I 
know  he  will  seek  to  persuade  you  that  the  offence  may  be 
condoned,  but  you  must  see  yourself  that  so  public  a  char- 
acter as  a  stage-dancer  would  bring  —  "  disgrace,  she  was 
about  to  say,  then  softened  it  to  "  obloquy  both  to  him  and 
yourself." 

"  But  I  am  not  going  to  marry  him ! "  cried  Queenie, 
roused  to  a  sense  of  indignation.  "  I  think,"  falteringly, 
**  that  he  loves  me  —  " 

"  Oh,  that  is  pure  nonsense ! "  was  the  stinging  retort. 
"  Men  feel  privileged  to  make  love  to  a  pretty  girl  in  your 
position,  and  are  wild  enough  to  promise  anything.  I 
doubt  if  a  year  from  this  time  the  foolish  boy  would  feel 
inclined  to  keep  his  word.  It  is  only  in  the  beginning  of 
these  romantic  affairs  that  a  man  swears  to  be  true.  He 
has  had  fancies  before." 

"  Then  you  are  answered,"  said  Queenie,  with  a  haughti- 
ness that  matched  Madame  Grenville's  own.  tt  I  decline 
his  offer,  not  from  any  fear  of  his  ceasing  to  care  for  me, 
not  because  I  do  not  believe  he  has  the  courage  to  give  up 


MADAME  GRENVILLE'S  FORTUNATE  MOVE.        415 

a  life  of  wealth  and  ease,  if  he  had  to  choose  between  that 
and  happiness,  but  because  I  cannot  love  him  sufficiently 
to  make  amends  for  such  a  sacrifice.  Will  you  tell  him  this?" 

"  I  will  indeed,  if  you  will  promise  aot  to  see  him 
again  ; "  and  Madame  Grenville  glanced  up  eagerly. 

"  I  shall  make  no  promise."  Queenie  had  the  sense  not 
to  play  out  her  trump-card  to  her  enemy 

"  Well,  Miss  Barretti,  I  nave  nothing  to  cto  writh  your 
motive,"  said  the  handsome  old  lady,  burning  with  vexa- 
tion at  the  girl's  higher  pride,  so  utterly  unassailable. 
"  No  sensible  girl,  in  your  position,  would  marry  a  young 
man  who  was  sure  to  be  made  a  beggar  by  the  crazy  step, 
while  there  was  higher  game  m  the  world.  We  are  alr 
true  to  our  order,  1  suppose.  There  is  more  in  birth  thai 
people  imagine.  But  i  came  prepared  to  reward  you  fot 
this  small  sacrifice,  if  I  could  persuade  you  tc  .uake  it 
You  really  deserve  something,  my  good  girl?3  and  she 
opened  her  handsome  reticule,  fragrant  with  oriental  odors 

Queenie  drew  back,  and  stood  erect,  ner  eyes  flashing 
fire,  her  face  instinct  with  a  dignity  i/hat  could  not  be  mis 
taken,  while  the  insulted  blood  surged  to  her  fact  m  a 
bright,  passionate  flood. 

"  Madame  Grenville,  it  fe  aot  in  your  powei  oo  reward 
me.  Our  interview  ha?  tested  long  enough,"  and  the 
clear,  cold  tones  struck  the  elder  womar  ;ike  a  voice  from 
some  dim,  half-forgotten  past  Of'  wtiom  did  this  girl, 
standing  there  in  her  peerless  beauty,  her  indescribable 
grace,  and  conscious  honor  remind  her?  It  was  as  if  she 
had  gone  through  some  such  scene  before. 

"  Very  well."  Madame  Grenville  rose  and  drew  her- 
self up  to  her  proudest  height.  It  had  all  been  so  differ- 
ent from  her  fancy.  She  was  to  find  a  bright,  coarse, 
underbred  girl,  who  would  assert  her  claim  noisily,  and 
declare  with  passionate  eagerness  that  no  power  on  earth 
would  induce  her  to  relinquish  her  lover.  The  lady  had 
come  prepared  to  bid  high,  to  offer  a  tempting  present  as 


416  LOST    IN    A    GREAT    CITY. 

a  solace  for  the  wound  she  inflicted.  Her  money  was  to 
buy  the  girl.  She  was  to  arrange  some  story  that  would 
not  only  shock,  but  shatter  her  grandson's  faith  in  this 
charmer.  She  knew  well  that  if  Harry  Grenville  could  see 
her  this  moment  he  would  be  more  madly  in  love  than  ever. 

The  two  confronted  each  other  in  a  peculiar  mood. 
Queenie  felt  herself  wronged  and  outraged,  and  where- 
as, yesterday,  she  stood  in  awe  of  the  very  shadow  of  the 
Grenville  family,  now  she  felt  only  contempt.  This  regal 
woman  —  she  was  that  in  any  attire  —  did  not  in  the  least 
intimidate  her.  Even  her  sneers  and  flings  were  robbed 
of  their  power  to  sting  keenly.  Were  these  people  so 
much  above  her  by  the  accident  of  wealth  only?  Was 
there  not  a  higher  nobility  that  could  take  cognizance  of 
worthy  deeds  ? 

And  Madame  Grenville  found  it  quite  impossible  to 
despise  her  humble  rival.  She  felt  intuitively  that  she 
had  not  impressed  her  with  the  sense  of  grandeur  with 
which  she  fancied  she  could  extinguish  the  dancing-girl. 
She  had  not  won  any  great  victory.  Indeed,  it  was  some- 
what as  if  she  had  been  vanquished. 

"  I  have  your  promise,"  she  said  with  a  sudden  fear,  as 
if  after  all  it  might  be  delusive.  "  You  will  keep  it,  surely  ? 
If  you  should  ever  need  a  friend,  or  meet  with  any  mis- 
fortune —  " 

"  I  should  not  apply  to  Madame  Grenville;"  and  Queenie 
opened  the  door,  bowing  her  out  with  the  grace  of  royal 
blood. 

Once  in  the  street,  Madame  Grenville  stood  astounded. 
Never  had  she  conducted  any  affair  so  poorly.  She  had 
bound  Miss  Barretti  by  no  promise  of  secrecy,  she  had 
arranged  no  plausible  tale,  indeed,  she  had  been  van- 
quished altogether.  What  should  she  say  to  Harry? 
Would  it  not  be  better  to  go  back  — 

No,  she  would  not  exchange  words  with  the  insolent 
little  thing  again.  This  boldness  came  of  stage  life,  thia 


MADAME  GRENVILLE'S  FORTUNATE  MOVE.        411 

obtuseness,  that  could  in  no  wise  discriminate,  was  a  char- 
acteristic  of  her  class.  Let  Harry  dare  to  marry  her,  and 
not  all  the  love  they  held  for  him  unitedly  could  purchase 
his  redemption. 

Queenie  closed  the  door  after  her  uninvited  guest,  and 
in  that  instant  all  her  bravery  seemed  to  desert  her.  She 
ran  up-stairs,  and  throwing  herself  upon  the  bed,  gave  way 
to  a  flood  of  hysterical  weeping.  Now  that  she  had  re- 
linquished her  lover,  bound  herself  by  a  solemn  promise, 
she  seemed  to  understand  suddenly  what  she  had  thrown 
out  of  her  life.  The  tenderness,  the  care,  the  devotion,  the 
sweet  dream  he  had  pictured!  Would  any  one  ever  love 
her  again  in  that  fashion  ?  For  to  youth,  in  the  moment 
of  its  supreme  anguish,  nothing  can  be  paralleled. 

She  was  so  weary  that  presently  she  sobbed  herself 
asleep.  Miss  Madeira,  wondering  at  her  absence,  mounted 
the  stairs  to  find  her  there  with  the  beauty  of  a  grieved 
child  in  her  face,  something  that  touched  her  and  roused 
her  curiosity  concerning  the  recent  visitor. 

Some  time  after,  the  voices  of  the  children  startled  her, 
and  she  sprang  up.  What  was  the  matter  —  asleep  here 
at  midday  !  Oh  — 

Moppet  put  her  head  in  the  door. 

"  Auntie  Madeira  said  —  oh  Queenie,  there's  the  elegant- 
est  lady  down-stairs,  or  ought  I  to  say  the  most  elegant? 
Yes,  I  believe  that's  right,  and  a  handsome  young  gentle- 
man, and  Tip  '11  be  awfully  jealous,  I  know,  for  he  wishes 
you  never  could  have  any  lovers,  but  I  think  they're  splen- 
did, sending  you  flowers  and  everything,  and  I  was  to 
give  you  this  — "  studying  the  card  in  her  hand,  "  but 
auntie  Madeira  said  if  you  were  asleep  you  should  not  be 
disturbed,  but  you  are  not,  and  it  is  from  —  Dolly  Denzil." 

Queenie  held  out  her  hand,  while  the  crimson  blood  suf- 
fused her  face,  then,  retreating,  left  it  ashy  pale,  and  the 
rosebud  mouth  quivered  convulsively.      Had  Harry  Gren- 
ville  brought  Madame  Denzil  to  help  him  plead  his  cause  ? 
27 


418  LOST   IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

The  card  contained  this  message : 

"Dear  Queenie  —  I  have  brought  you  a  strange  visitor, 
and  you  must  prepare  yourself  for  a  somewhat  dramatia 
denouement.  May  I  come  up  and  assist  you  a  little  ?  " 

"  Will  you  bring  Madame  Denzil  up-stairs,  Moppet  ?  Do 
you  know  who  is  with  her?" 

Queenie  gasped  as  she  asked  the  question,  almost  under- 
standing  what  the  answer  would  be. 

"  No,"  answered  Moppet,  with  a  sort  of  innocent  stare. 
«  But  they  came  in  a  splendid  carriage." 

«  Run  along  then,  dear." 

Madam  Denzil's  pretty  light  silk  rustled  up  the  stairs. 
She  took  Queenie  in  her  arms,  and  kissed  her  rapturously. 

"  Who  is  it?  "  faltered  the  young  girl. 

«  When  I  tell  you  that  his  name  is  Mr.  Roger  Lasselle, 
you  will  be  no  wiser  than  before,"  she  laughed.  And  then 
she  caught  Queenie  to  her  heart,  and  cried  over  her. 

"I'm  a  fool,  I  know!  I  can't  help  it.  I've  heard  no  end  of 
romances  in  my  day,  and  those  on  the  stage  are  not  half  as 
queer  as  those  off  of  it.  I  can't  tell  you  a  word,  nor  a  line, 
and  the  person  whose  right  it  is,  is  dying  to  see  you,  and  to 
tell  you ;  and  here  I  am  keeping  you  when  every  moment 
is  precious,  and  you  must  get  yourself  up  beautifully,  regard- 
less of  expense.  Have  you  been  asleep,  you  queer  little  kit- 
ten? Why  —  you're  all  tumbled  about.  Haven't  you  a 
pretty  white  gown  of  some  sort,  and  here,  let  me  brush 
out  your  hair  while  Fm  talking  nonsense,  just  to  keep  back 
the  great  secret." 

a  I  don't  understand  you  a  bit ; w  cried  Queenie,  more 
amazed  than  ever,  whiU  her  great,  soft  eyes  studied  Mad- 
ame Denzil. 

"  No,  my  dear.  If  yon  did  I  should  want  to  go  out  and 
hang  myself  on  the  first  lamp-post,  from  pure  chagrin.  My 
business  is  to  be  as  mysterious  as  the  third  act  of  a  play, 
to  excite  your  curiosity,  your  anxiety,  your  whole  soul. 
Are  you  really  awake  ?  Get  me  a  bit  of  blue  ribbon,  and 


MADAME  GRENVILLE'S  FORTUNATE  MO  YE.        419 

oh,  here  are  some  violets  in  my  belt.  When  I  have  your 
hair  arranged  —  " 

"  Will  you  tell  me  one  thing;"  Queenie  exclaimed,  almost 
frantically.  "  Mr.  Grenville  —  " 

"  Mr.  Grenville  has  nothing  to  do  about  it.  I  may  ven- 
ture to  say  that  it  is  some  one  who  saw  you  long  ago,  and 
brings  —  well,  not  bad  news." 

"  Oh,  it  isn't  Mr.  Chippenham ! n  she  cried  in  affright. 

DoUy  laughed  heartily. 

"  It  isn't  any  one  you  ever  knew,  but  some  one  who  has 
heard  a  great  deal  about  you,  and  who  wants  —  there, 
that's  pretty  enough  for  a  picture.  What  magnificent  hair 
you  have !  No,  it  must  hang  just  so.  Have  you  a  decent 
dress,  I  wonder?  See  here,  put  on  this  blue  silk  skirt  — 
and  if  you  have  a  pretty  sacque  —  the  blue  body  is  too 
much  like  full  dress.  I  want  you  to  be  picturesque,  strik- 
ing, and  yet  with  an  air  of  refined  negligence.  I  have 
been  expecting  young  Grenville  —  you  know  it  is  nothing 
until  I  give  my  consent,  and  now  —  oh,  this  white  is  just 
the  thing.  There,  take  a  look  at  yourself.** 

"  But  what  am  I  to  do  ?  "  she  asked  in  a  maze. 

"  You  are  to  go  down-stairs  and  be  introduced  to  Mr. 
Roger  Lasselle.  When  you  have  listened  to  his  story — " 

"Oh,  I  cannot!  I  cannot!"  and  Queenie  hid  her  face. 
M I  will  never  have  a  lover  again,  never." 

u  This  isn't  a  love  story,  child.  And  having  heard  it, 
you  will  thank  God  that  such  things  could  come  to  pass  in 
the  compass  of  one  small  life.  Now,  my  darling  Queenie 
—  will  you  ever  forget  that  I  have  loved  you,  too  ?  "  and 
the  tone  was  full  of  tender  solemnity. 


LOST   IN  A   GREAT  CITY. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

ROGER'S  QUEST. 

IT  seemed  to  Roger  Lasselle,  waiting  in  that  small 
apartment,  strewn  with  chaos,  which  had  been  designated 
as  the  "  manager's  den,"  that  Madame  Denzil  must  be  a 
myth  of  the  dark  ages.  He  was  considering  the  propriety 
of  beating  a  retreat,  when  in  flashed  a  pretty,  coquettish 
woman  of  thirty,  or  thereabouts. 

Roger  stated  his  errand  simply  and  tersely.  If  this 
Mam'selle  Zanfretti  should  prove  to  be  the  identical  Queen 
Titania,  adopted  child  of  Signor  Barretti  —  " 

"Well,  if  she  should?"  inquired  Madame  Denzil,  looking 
steadily  at  him,  after  having  evaded  the  question  several 
times. 

"  I  am  certain  it  must  be  the  same !  Oh,  Madame  Den- 
zil, if  you  have  a  heart,  and  have  heard  her  story,  you 
surely  will  not  stand  in  the  way  of  her  being  united  to 
friends  who  have  lost  her  and  mourned  her  as  dead." 

"  Mrs.  Kate  Chippenham,  for  instance ; "  was  the  rather 
ironical  retort. 

"  Mrs.  Chippenham  for  one.     But  there  are  others." 

Dolly  Denzil  was  annoyed,  and  incredulous.  The  episode 
of  the  party  still  rankled  in  her  mind,  and  she  did  not 
moan  that  Queenie  should  be  exposed  to  any  fresh  danger. 
This  young  man  was  very  handsome,  and  carried  himself 
courteously,  but  he  might  have  gained  some  knowledge 
of  Queenie  to  use  to  the  child's  detriment. 

There  was  in  it  all  an  undercurrent  of  worldy  wisdom 
to  be  used  for  her  favorite.  A  marriage  with  such  a  per- 
son as  Harry  Grenville  would  lift  Queenie  out  of  the  life 


ROGER'S  QUEST.  421 

so  illy  adapted  to  her  sweet,  unsullied  youth,  her  beauty, 
and  her  childlike  faith.  If  she  never  lost  it  —  if  she  could 
go  to  comfort  and  happiness  at  once,  for  although  Dolly 
knew  the  young  man's  family  would  oppose  such  a  union 
bitterly,  if  they  were  once  married,  vexed  questions  would 
be  at  an  end,  and  reconciliation  the  work  of  time.  She 
was  not,  therefore,  going  to  give  Harry  Grenville  so  pow- 
erful a  rival  for  Queenie's  admiration. 

I  think  he  convinced  her,  at  last,  that  there  was  no  selfish 
motive  at  the  bottom  of  his  desire.  She  would  not  answer 
him  positively,  but  made  an  engagement  for  him  to  call  on 
her  the  following  morning. 

He  went  home  wonderfully  light  of  heart,  this  Roger 
Lasselle.  It  was  as  much  as  he  could  do  not  to  cry  out 
gladly  in  the  hall,  "  I  have  found  her,  aunt  Alice !  I  have 
found  her!"  to  go  to  bed  quietly;  but  there  was  little 
sleep  for  him.  In  the  dreamy  dimness  he  saw  her  again, 
floating  up  those  cloud-like  stairs,  twinkling  in  the  airy 
mazes  until  one  could  hardly  tell  whether  she  was  human, 
or  a  veritable  sprite. 

"  And  if  I  should  find  her ! "  rang  exultantly  through 
his  brain. 

It  seemed  so  odd  the  next  morning  to  study  the  adver- 
tisement. Now  he  hoped  she  would  not  see  it.  Lawrence 
talked  about  the  tickets;  they  would  be  quite  a  party. 
Uncle  Edward  rallied  them  a  little.  Then  they  dispersed, 
and  Roger  sauntered  through  the  streets,  consulting  his 
watch  every  five  minutes. 

He  rang  Madame  Denzil's  door-bell  promptly  at  eleven. 
He  was  sure  he  would  find  Queenie  here.  But  he  was 
doomed  to  a  double  disappointment.  Madame  Denzil  had 
remembered  an  important  engagement,  and  would  not  be 
in  until  twelve.  Would  he  wait  ? 

There  was  nothing  else  to  do,  he  thought,  grimly.  He 
turned  over  photographs,  —  there  was  none  of  Queenie, 


422  LOST   IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 

The  engravings  came  next,  the  curiosities  were  inspected, 
and  then  he  settled  himself  to  a  book  of  poems. 

She  entered  brilliant  and  good-humored,  and,  at  the 
sight,  Roger  nearly  lost  his  temper.  She  ordered  some 
wine  and  a  dainty  impromptu  lunch,  and  then  the  two 
skirmished  until  she  had  wearied  out  Roger  with  being  so 
warily  on  the  defensive,  and  he  had  told  her  the  whole 
story. 

Dolly  Denzil  sat  there  astounded.  Little  Queenie  a 
great  lady,  an  heiress,  with  a  father  waiting  to  clasp  her  to 
his  heart.  And  yet  these  sad,  sad  years  had  fallen  in  her 
life! 

"Come,"  she  said,  rising,  "there  is  not  a  moment  to 
lose,"  and  Roger  noticed  that  her  eyes  were  full  of  tears. 
"  If  I  doubted  you  a  little  at  first,  pardon  me.  It  was  for 
her  sake.  I  can't  fancy  myself  being  mother  to  a  grown 
girl,"  and  a  smile  crossed  her  face,  "but  I  could  love 
Queenie  as  a  child." 

They  obtained  a  coupe,  and  drove  rapidly  to  the  house. 
Roger  noted  the  common  surroundings  of  his  little  fairy 
queen,  for  already  she  seemed  to  belong  to  him.  Was  he 
not  the  prince  corne  to  carry  her  away  ? 

It  appeared  to  him  as  he  sat  in  the  stuffy  little  parlor 
that  there  had  been  nothing  but  waiting  on  this  day,  when 
his  soul  was  hot  with  ardor  and  impetuosity.  He  heard 
the  children's  voices  — -  the  little  ones  she  had  saved  from 
starvation,  the  steps  going  up  and  down-stairs,  then  a 
baby's  cry,  and  afterward  the  door  opened. 

"This  is  Miss  Barretti,"  said  Madame  Denzil,  leading  the 
shy  girl  forward.  "And  this,  Queenie,  is  Mr.  Lasselle, 
who  has  come  from  a  very  dear  friend,  and  has  a  story  to 
tell  you.  I  think  you  will  do  better  by  yourselves;"  and 
she  disappeared. 

Roger  had  taken  Queenie's  hand,  so  fair  and  soft  with 
the  freshness  of  youth,  as  if  it  had  never  known  labor. 
And  then  he  studied  the  face  with  one  long,  ardent,  de- 


BOGER'S  QUEST.  423 

vouring  glance.  Yes,  it  was  she.  The  portrait,  the  daring 
child  acrobat,  the  beautiful  girl  before  him,  —  there  could 
be  no  question  of  identity.  Through  every  stage  of  growth 
ran  the  same  remarkable  likeness. 

"  This  advertisement  will  partly  explain  my  coming,"  he 
eaid,  handing  her  the  paper,  with  the  notice  folded  outside. 

She  glanced  over  it,  and  gave  a  wild  cry  of  joy. 

"  Kate,  dear  Kate !  Where  is  she  ?  May  I  not  see 
her  ?  "  and  for  an  instant  the  room  swam  round. 

"You  shall  see  her.  I  brought  her  from  Europe  with 
me,  and  she  is  now  in  my  aunt's  house." 

"  But  how  did  you  know  —  "  and  she  turned  a  blushing, 
questioning  face  toward  him. 

"  May  I  tell  you  my  own  story  in  my  own  way  ?  It 
seems  as  if  I  had  always  known  you." 

She  smiled,  that  rare,  sweet  smile,  that  set  all  his  pulses 
athrill.  Formality  was  at  an  end  between  them. 

«  Sit  down  here." 

He  led  her  to  the  uncomfortable  sofa,  but  it  was  to  him 
a  throne  of  delight.  He  began  at  the  summer  afternoon, 
that  seemed  ages  agone,  when  he  had  been  wild  with  boy- 
ish delight  at  her  own  and  Signer  Barretti's  performance. 
Then  all  his  after  efforts  at  tracing  her,  even  to  his  call  on 
Mrs.  Winstead. 

A  puzzled  look  came  over  her  face.  Why  had  he  taken 
all  this  trouble  ?  She  did  not  dare  ask ;  she  did  not  even 
venture  to  glance  up,  but  just  listened  to  the  flow  of  the 
rich,  melodious  voice,  and  the  account  of  the  persevering 
search. 

"  Let  me  tell  you  another  story,"  he  said,  after  a  pause. 
"Nine  years  ago  this  coming  summer,  a  woman  and  a 
child  stood  on  Broadway,  nearly  opposite  City  Hall,  wait- 
ing for  an  opportunity  to  cross.  They  essayed  it,  but  after 
going  half  the  distance  the  child  was  seized  with  a  sudden 
panic,  and  flew  back,  or  disappeared  in  the  crowd  —  " 

"  It  was  I ! "  she  cried,  eagerly.    "  And  the  woman  was 


424  LOST  IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 

ray  nurse,  my  dear  Maggie!  My  own  mamma  was  dead. 
Oh !  —  "  and  she  drew  a  long,  sobbing  breath. 

«  Shall  I  go  on  ?  " 

Her  soft,  starry  eyes,  swimming  in  tears,  answered  him. 

"  She  met  with  a  terrible  accident."  And  then  he  con- 
tinued the  sad  tale ;  the  efforts  which  were  made  to  find 
her,  and  the  incidents  that  frustrated  them. 

Queenie  listened  as  if  it  must  be  about  some  one  else. 
She  could  not  imagine  it  had  been  for  her  own  self. 

"  Oh,  I  remember  it  all !  It  is  like  a  horrible  dream. 
Tim,  and  that  dreadful  mother  Mell !  And  the  dark,  prison- 
like  place  she  took  me  to,  the  man  who  was  so  very,  very 
repulsive!"  and  she  shuddered.  "Then  my  dear  Dick 
Bridger  carried  me  away." 

"  We  have  all  the  story  complete.  One  by  one  the  links 
have  been  joined.  And  now  it  only  remains  to  take  you 
to  tl.c  friends  who  are  waiting  so  impatiently." 

With  rare  delicacy  he  had  left  out  all  mention  of  her 
father,  though  he  had  spoken  of  the  picture.  He  saw  that 
this  most  important  of  Maggie's  charges  had  passed  out  of 
her  childish  mind,  been  dimmed  by  the  after  events  and 
scenes.  It  should  be  the  delight  of  aunt  Alice  to  impart 
this. 

Queenie  was  lost  in  a  reverie.  Was  it  true  ?  Was  it 
she  who  had  lived  this  changing,  eventful  life  ?  Ah,  whaf 
strange,  strange  years ! 

He  studied  her  unobserved.  The  shining  hair,  the  pearly 
skin,  with  its  delicate  pink  tints,  the  high-bred,  exquisitely 
fine  features,  the  large,  tender  eyes,  with  their  drooping, 
blue-veined  lids,  the  sweet,  ripe,  tremulous  lips,  —  oh,  how 
lovely,  how  pure  !  How  had  she  escaped  scatheless  ? 

"  And  you  are  Roger !  "  she  said,  suddenly,  glancing  up 
with  a  swift,  bright  look,  as  if  it  had  just  dawned  upon 
her. 

u  Roger ', '  She  said  it  so  simply,  so  unconsciously.  He 
had  told  so  much  of  the  story  in  the  third  person,  and  it 


ROGER'S  QUEST.  425 

had  beer,  so  bewildering  that  only  now  had  she  seemed  to 
connect  the  eager,  impetuous  boy,  with  the  man  beside 
her, 

For  an  instant  their  eyes  met.  He  was  hardly  conscious 
of  the  admiration,  the  sense  of  mastery,  the  imperious  de- 
sire for  ownership  that  was  but  dimly  veiled  in  their  ten- 
der glow.  And  she  could  but  yield  as  unconsciously.  The 
little  fairy  Queen  Titania,  by  right,  belonged  to  the  boy 
Roger,  who  had  sought  her  so  faithfully,  who  had  not  been 
deterred  or  alarmed  by  the  coarse  associations  clinging 
about  her  position.  It  was  all  so  far  away,  like  a  picture 
seen  ages  ago,  that  boy  and  girl. 

She  had  breathed  a  long,  soft  sigh,  and  her  eyes  drooped, 
a  wavering  color,  like  the  twilight  tint  of  flame  stole  over 
her  face. 

He  was  so  entranced  that  he  could  have  sat  and  watched 
her  for  hours,  still  he  was  all  impatience,  on  the  other  hand, 
to  take  her  home. 

"  And  now,"  he  began,  with  a  gay, sweet  smile,  "you  will 
not  be  afraid  to  trust  yourself  to  me,  if  my  story  does  savor 
of  the  wildest  romance.  I  have  succeeded  in  convincing 
Madame  Denzil  of  the  truth  of  my  claim  to  you.  My  aunt 
and  Maggie,  as  well  as  Mrs.  Chippenham,  are  waiting  im- 
patiently, though  little  expecting  that  the  moment  of  your 
arrival  is  so  near  at  hand.  Can  you  go  immediately  ?" 

"  Oh,  I  must  tell  dear  Miss  Madeira !  And  it  is  all  so 
strange.  Your  aunt  —  " 

"  "Will  prove  the  tenderest  of  mothers.  No,  you  must 
not  wait ;  you  can  come  back  and  tell  Miss  Madeira." 

Madame  Denzil  had  found  her  way  down  to  the  kitchen, 
and  astounded  simple-hearted  Miss  Madeira  with  the  won- 
derful history.  At  the  summons,  they  both  made  their 
appearance. 

It  had  all  the  unreality  of  a  play  to  Queenie.  Miss 
Madeira's  tears  and  smiles  and  congratulations,  with  more 
than  her  usual  incoherence,  the  brief  drive,  the  yielding  to 


426  LOST  IN  A   GREAT  CITY. 

Roger,  as  if  he  was  the  arbiter  of  her  destiny,  —  indeed, 
Madame  Denzil  went  quite  over  to  the  enemy,  and  forgot 
the  claims  of  the  absent  lover,  —  the  being  handed  out  so 
courteously  in  front  of  this  handsome  mansion,  where 
Dolly  kissed  her  and  left  her,  and  then  almost  carried  up 
the  broad,  thickly-carpeted  stairs. 

No  one  was  in  the  front  sitting-room. 

"  Here  is  the  portrait,"  Roger  said,  a  wild  kind  of  joy 
making  his  voice  unsteady.  «  There,  stand  and  look  at  it ; 
don't  stir  till  I  bring  some  one.  Why,  you  have  scarcely 
changed." 

With  a  bound  he  was  in  the  adjoining  room. 

"  Aunt  Alice !  —  Maggie ! "  Oh,  how  could  he  ever  get 
the  joyful  news  told  ? 

"Why,  Roger,  what  has  happened?" 

"  Oh,  she  is  here !  she  is  here ! "  he  cried.  u  In  this 
house,  in  the  next  room  1  I  found  her  last  night !  I  was 
BO  sure,  I  could  not  sleep.  That  is  why  I  could  eat  no 
breakfast.  Little  Queenie !  —  that  seems  the  best  name 
for  her.  Oh,  where  is  Mrs.  Chippenham  ?  But  you  will 
all  know  her  by  the  picture.  Come." 

She  stood  there  with  her  shy,  downcast  eyes,  her  fair 
hair  fluttering  about  her  shoulders,  her  hands  clasped,  —  a 
statue  could  hardly  have  been  more  perfect,  more  entranc- 
ing. The  two  women  looked,  in  awesome  wonder,  that 
amounted  to  incredulity. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  cry,  a  quick  rush,  and  Kate  had 
her  in  her  arms. 

"  Oh,  my  darling,  darling  Queenie ! n 

It  broke  the  spell.  Kate  dropped  into  a  low  chair,  and 
took  Queenie  on  her  lap,  as  if  she  had  still  been  a  child, 
kissing  the  sweet  face  with  rapture,  calling  her  by  all  the 
old,  endearing  names,  and  then  breaking  into  a  fit  of  ten- 
der sobbing. 

Maggie  looked  on  with  jealous  love,  and  a  great  pang. 
The  sweet,  pretty,  imperious  baby  Nora  was  no  more. 


ROGER'S  QUEST.  427 

That  past  seemed  as  dead  now  as  if  Nora  had  never  come 
back. 

But  it  was  Roger's  electric  voice  that  brought  them  back 
to  every  day  life,  —  Roger,  who  talked  and  explained  and 
bridged  over  the  spaces,  and  settled  everything  to  every- 
body's satisfaction.  And  in  the  midst  of  it  all  walked  in 
Mr.  Byington. 

As  for  Queenie,  the  events  and  excitements  of  the  day 
had  been  quite  too  much.  She  finished  by  fainting  dead 
away,  and  was  put  in  Mrs.  Byington's  bed,  with  Maggie  to 
watch  her. 

And  then  she  thought  of  the  evening.  She  could  not  go 
to  the  theatre.  She  never  could  go  again,  never  face  that 
great  audience,  whose  applause  had  been  so  much  to  her. 
And  yet  Mr.  Ritchie  must  know. 

She  sat  up,  presently,  and  wrote  a  little  note  to  Madame 
Denzil,  enclosing  one  to  Harry  Grenville.  Its  contents 
were  these : — 

"  MY  DEAR  FRIEND  :  I  have  gained  courage  enough  to 
examine  my  own  heart,  and  have  come  to  this  resolve. 
The  fancy  that  has  grown  up  between  us  has  been  so  brief 
that  we  can  both  overlive  it,  which  will  be  the  wisest 
course.  Madame  Grenville  called  upon  me  this  morning; 
she  is,  no  doubt,  right  in  her  judgment.  Whatever  may 
happen  to  me,  it  cannot  take  away  the  knowledge  that  I 
have  been  a  public  performer,  a  stage  dancer.  So  it  is 
wisest  and  best  to  forget  me  utterly. 

u  With  this  I  shall  disappear  from  your  sight.  Do  not 
seek  me.  Miss  Madeira  and  Madame  Denzil  are  alike 
pledged  to  secrecy  for  the  present.  I  am  safe  and  with 
dear  friends.  TITANIA  BARRETTI." 

Queenie  read  the  note  over.  Was  it  heartless  as  well  as 
cold  ?  But  though  these  friends  stood  ready  to  make  the 
rest  of  life  brighter,  she  was  still,  in  the  sense  of  birth,  an 
outcast,  a  little  waif.  Indeed,  she  had  reached  a  quiet  but 


428  LOST  IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 

painful  certainty  of  her  mother's  history.  A  deceived  and 
deserted  woman,  no  doubt,  and  she  was  much  too  proud 
to  enter  the  Grenville  family  as  an  interloper,  a  thing  to  be 
blamed  and  despised. 

Roger  had  gone  with  the  notes.  For  the  present  the 
matter  was  to  be  kept  a  profound  secret.  The  advertise- 
ment was  withdrawn.  The  house  seemed  so  quiet  after 
this  heat  and  whirl  of  excitement. 

Maggie  came  back  to  her  station.  Kate  sat  at  the  foot 
of  the  bed,  and  Mrs.  Byington  was  engaged  with  a  visitor 
in  the  drawing-room. 

Queenie  laughed  a  little  at  the  solemnity  of  the  situation. 
To  her  it  had  a  ridiculous  side.  She  felt  weak  and  languid, 
but  she  was  not  ill;  indeed,  the  brief  hours  rest  had  restored 
her. 

"I  feel  as  if  I  ought  to  get  up,"  she  said,  presently. 
"  Kate,  am  I  not  a  little  humbug  ?  But  I  am  still  so  much 
in  a  maze.  I  wish  you'd  tell  your  story  all  over  again, 
Maggie.  How  sweet  and  kind  Mrs.  Byington  has  been ! 
And  there  are  so  many  lovely  people  in  the  world." 

Somewhere  Maggie  made  a  hiatus.  Queenie  was  think- 
ing. 

"  Maggie,"  —  a  little  tremulously,  — "  didn't  we  come  to 
New  York  to  find  my  father  ?  I  can't  seem  to  remember 
very  well.  I  suppose  there  never  was  anything  heard  —  " 

Maggie  buried  her  face  suddenly  on  the  pillow,  and 
sobbed.  Who  could  tell  her  that  most  wonderful  of  all  the 
strange  incidents. 

14 1  think  I  know,  dear  Maggie.  Don't  be  so  distressed," 
M  hispered  the  sweet  voice,  softly.  « It  would  be  so  nice 
to  have  had  a  father  one  could  remember  fondly,  but  there 
are  so  many  other  things  that  I  can  be  quite  content. 
Poor,  poor,  mamma.  If  I  could  have  her  now,  I  would 
comfort  her,  and  help  her  bear  the  sorrow." 

*'  Oh,  Nora,  it  is  no  sorrow,  not  as  you  think."  Then, 
as  Mrs.  Byington  entered  the  room,  she  implored  that  lady 
to  tell  her  all. 


ROGER'S  QUEST.  429 

Mrs.  Byington  bent  over  and  kissed  the  fair  face, 
clasped  the  soft  hands. 

"  Queenie,"  she  said,  u  I  wonder  if  you  can  bear  one 
more  joy  ?  You  have  a  father,  who  adores  your  memory, 
who  has  spared  no  pains  to  find  you.  He  is  in  Rome  now, 
but  to-morrow  the  summons  will  be  on  its  way  to  him. 
He  is  an  artist  of  considerable  reputation,  and  a  nobleman, 
Baron  Waldeburgh.  So  you  are  a  titled  little  lady." 

She  thought  of  her  letter  —  gone !     Was  she  sorry  ? 

"  There !  "  cried  Kate,  exultantly.  "  Though  one  doesn't 
think  so  much  of  lords,  and  counts,  and  barons,  when, 
one  sees  such  droves  of  them  at  German  watering-places, 
gambling  for  a  living.  But  you're  a  lady  born!  You 
always  were  different,  Dick  himself  said  so.  I  never  saw 
him  love  any  human  being  so  much!  Poor,  dear  Dick. 
And  then,  that  I  should  have  let  that  mean,  sneaking, 
drunken  Chippenham,  get  around  me,  and  take  all  the 
money,  and  hiring  you  out,  too!  Oh,  Queenie,  if  Dick 
could  come  back  he  would  murder  me,  I  know!  He 
always  said  I  was  a  fool,  but  I've  been  worse  than  a  fool!  " 

A  father !  Baron  Waldeburgh !  Queenie  wondered 
how  it  would  seem  to  have  a  father.  She  could  only  think 
of  the  lovely  little  children  she  used  to  watch  in  Central 
Park,  lifted  in  the  arms  of  some  tender  father,  or  the 
bearded  cheek  pressed  against  the  soft  pink  one.  But 
now  she  was  a  woman. 

"He  painted  your  portrait,  in  the  other  room,"  said 
Maggie.  "  And  he  is  a  very  charming  gentleman." 

Queenie  lay  there  and  listened.  Afterward  Roger  came 
flying  up  the  stairs.  She  sat  up  on  the  sofa,  and  wanted 
to  hear  what  had  happened  at  the  theatre. 

"  Well,  Ritchie  was  tearing,  for  awhile  !  Madame  Den- 
zil,  with  a  funny  twinkle  in  her  eye,  made  you  out  terribly 
sick  and  exhausted.  The  part  was  divided  round ;  that 
little  Norton  girl  took  the  cloud  scene,  and  did  it  pretty 
Well,  too ;  but  I  fancy  the  audience  was  puzzled,  and  missed 


130  LOST   IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 

you,  though  she  wore  a  golden  wig  to  personate  yon  ar 
nearly  as  possible.  I  didn't  wait  after  that.  Lai  and  Miss 
Grenville  were  there." 

Miss  Grenville  !  Queenie  caught  the  name,  and  flushed 
deeply.  Harry  had  by  this  time  received  her  note.  It 
might  all  be  taken  back.  That  grand  old  woman  would 
not  spurn  her  now,  if  she  knew  what  had  occurred  since 
that  terrible  morning  interview.  Why,  it  seemed  ages 
ago! 

Would  she  be  glad  to  have  her  proud,  handsome  lover 
again  ?  A  shiver  sped  through  her  warm  pulses,  and  she 
shrank  from  the  fancied  clasp.  Ah,  how  weak  she  had 
been,  to  let  him  love  her  when  she  could  give  only  grati- 
tude in  return. 

The  last  picture  that  floated  through  her  brain  that  night 
was  Dick  Bridger  and  herself  at  Branchville.  She  could 
see  the  bright,  boyish  Roger  watching  every  movement 
with  his  intense  eyes,  applauding  —  loth  to  leave,  remem- 
bering her  for  months  afterward,  never,  in  fact,  forgetting 
her. 

When  Queenie  woke  the  next  morning,  she  was  amazed 
at  not  finding  herself  in  Miss  Madeira's  little  room,  with 
its  worn  carpet  and  cheap  belongings.  Here  was  luxury 
instead.  Maggie  came  in  to  brush  her  hair,  her  shining, 
silken  hair,  that  had  once  been  so  ruthlessly  despoiled  by 
the  cruel  hands  of  Mrs.  Winstead.  And  here  was  a  pretty 
white  morning  wrapper,  that  fell  around  her  feet  in  a 
graceful  train.  For  Queenie  was  still  petite,  and  would 
be  a  sylph  rather  than  a  Juno. 

Mrs.  Byington  entered,  and  caught  the  fair  girl  to  her 
heart.  How  radiantly  beautiful  she  was !  How  she  had 
longed  for  and  coveted  this  very  child,  since  the  ill-fated 
day  of  the  accident !  And  now,  if  she  might  only  keep 
her !  If  Lai,  —  and  she  gave  a  sigh,  but  there  was  Roger, 
—  who  cried  out  from  the  hall  below, 

"  Are  you  never  going  to  bring  her  down,  Maggie !" 


ROGER'S  QUEST.  431 

Yes,  that  would  settle  it.  Roger  was  worthy  of  any 
woman,  even  a  baron's  daughter. 

She  entered  the  breakfast  room  on  Mrs.  Byington's  arm, 
a  trifle  shy,  but  graceful  and  self-possessed,  her  bright 
young  face  a  picture  to  make  glad  any  human  soul.  They 
thought  little  about  her  beauty  at  Miss  Madeira's,  but  they 
had  all  felt  its  subtile  charm  hundreds  of  times.  But  she 
shone  now  like  a  gem  transferred  to  a  rare  setting.  For 
any  visible  awkwardness  or  strangeness  she  might  have 
spent  her  whole  life  among  these  polished  and  cultured 
people.  Was  it  the  underlying  grace  of  birth  ? 

They  were  so  happy,  so  bright  and  joyous,  and  yet  on 
the  very  verge  of  such  intense  emotion,  that  now  and  then 
a  pair  of  eyes  glittered  in  something  beside  their  own 
brilliancy,  and  a  voice  trembled  with  a  strange  depth  and 
fulness. 

There  was  still  so  much  talking  to  do,  but  they  all 
agreed  that  at  present  the  most  profound  secrecy  must  be 
observed.  If  the  story  should  become  public  now,  Queenie 
would  be  irretrievably  committed  to  her  social  status  as  a 
dancer  in  the  Enchanted  Princess.  There  were  just  two 
more  representations  for  that  day,  and  then  it  would  be  re- 
placed, forgotten. 

"  I  think  I  had  better  write  to  Mr.  Ritchie,"  said  Queenie, 
"and  relinquish  my  salary  for  the  past  fortnight,  which 
would  be  due  on  Monday.  That  will  help  make  amends." 

Roger  laughed  at  her  conscientiousness,  but  announced 
himself  ready  to  be  her  messenger  anywhere  within  reason- 
able limits. 

"  And  if  I  could  see  Miss  Madeira.  Oh,  I  ought  to  go 
home  —  " 

M  Why,  this  is  your  home,"  declared  Roger,  with  an  air 
of  authority  that  was  at  once  fascinating  and  amusing. 
«  Tell  her,  aunt  Alice,  —  " 

"  We  shall  only  relinquish  her  to  her  father's  care  and 
love,"  said  Mr.  Byington,  in  a  deep,  full  tone,  that  touched 


432  LOST   IN   A   GREAT   CITY, 

her  heart.  "  We  have  not  searched  so  long  and  vainly  to 
let  her  go  out  of  our  sight  again.  There  would  be  some 
new  and  remarkable  combination  of  events  immediately." 

"  You  are  all  so  good !  And  you  took  so  much  trouble 
before  you  knew  —  " 

"  But,  my  dear,  we  never  half  forgave  ourselves  for  the 
accident.  I  think  we  can  venture  to  do  so  now.  But 
Roger  is  right.  This  is  your  home." 

"We  will  visit  Miss  Madeira  and  Madame  Denzil  this 
morning,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Byington.  "  I  want  to  see  and 
thank  this  worthy  woman  for  taking  you  into  her  home 
and  heart.  And  we  must  see  about  a  wardrobe.  Maggie, 
will  you  order  the  carriage  ?  " 

Queenie  flushed,  bewitchingly. 

Their  first  errand  was  to  one  of  the  emporiums  of  fash- 
ion. Queenie  was  amazed  at  the  lavish  manner  in  which 
Mrs.  Byington  made  her  selections.  Soft  silks,  cashmeres, 
lawns,  linens,  pretty  embroideries,  laces,  gloves ;  indeed,  it 
was  a  study  to  watch  the  lovely,  eager,  girlish  face.  Roger 
had  insisted  upon  accompanying  them.  He  displayed  the 
slender  white  hand  with  as  much  pride  as  if  he  had  been 
its  veritable  owner,  and  selected  gloves  until  Queenie  im- 
plored him  to  desist. 

"And  now,  aunt  Alice,"  he  began,  laughingly,  "I  think 
we  ought  to  buy  a  gift  all  round  for  Miss  Madeira's  house- 
hold. How  many  children  are  there,  Miss  Queenie  ?  " 

They  did  not  go  empty  handed.  It  was  Saturday,  and 
all  the  children  were  home  but  Tip.  Queenie  kissed  them 
and  cried  over  them,  and  then  laughed  in  her  soft,  clear 
tone.  But  oh,  how  could  they  ever  give  her  up ! 

Miss  Madeira  took  one  occasion  to  whisper  to  Queenie, 

"  Mr.  Grenville  was  here  early  this  morning,  my  dear, 
and  he's  most  wild  about  you.  I  told  him  what  you  said, 
that  you  were  safe  and  with  friends ;  but  he  begged  so  for 
your  address  that  I  was  glad  not  to  have  it,  for  I  never 
could  have  kept  my  word." 


ROGER'S  QUEST.  433 

"  Thank  you.     It  is  best  so,"  the  young  girl  murmured. 

"I  have  been  so  happy  with  them — you  never  would 
believe,"  Queenie  exclaimed,  when  she  was  settled  iu  the 
carriage  again,  and  was  wiping  the  tears  from  her  tender 
brown  eyes.  '*  They  are  not  pretty,  nor  especially  refined, 
but  oh,  we  have  all  been  such  dear,  dear  friends.  And  my 
poor  Miss  Madeira." 

«  How  could  they  help  loving  you  1 "  cried  Roger,  with 
honest  frankness. 

H 


434  LOST  IN  A  GREAT   CITY. 


CHAPTER  XXXVL 

IP  I  COULD  WIN  YOU   BACK! 

THE  blow  had  fallen  so  suddenly  upon  Harry  Grenvilla 
that  even  now  he  could  hardly  believe  it  anything  beyond 
a  terrible  dream.  He  had  gone  to  the  theatre  as  usual,  and 
been  astounded  by  Queenie's  mysterious  note.  Then  he 
had  flown  to  Madame  Denzil,  to  find  her  as  impenetrable 
as  a  Sphynx. 

"  She  is  too  ill  to  appear  to-night.  For  the  rest,  be  pa- 
tient. You  will  know  in  time,"  was  the  lady's  message. 

"  But  I  must  see  her.  I  shall  seek  her  at  once,"  he 
answered,  with  resolute  determination. 

"  She  is  not  at  Miss  Madeira's.  All  you  can  do  is  to  be 
patient." 

He  hurried  to  the  small,  obscure  abode.  Not  a  light  was 
visible  at  any  window.  Then  he  went  straight  home  to  his 
hotel. 

His  mother  had  gone  to  bed  with  a  headache.  Lucia 
was  out  spending  the  night  with  a  friend.  Blanche  had 
gone  to  the  theatre  with  Lawrence  Byington.  He  had 
been  asked  to  join  them,  but  his  own  engagements  were 
too  absorbing. 

His  grandfather  always  retired  early,  being  in  very  del- 
icate health.  Madame  Grenville  sat  alone  by  the  hand- 
some inlaid  cabinet.  She  had  been  looking  over  bills,  and 
making  arrangements.  Next  week  they  were  to  leave  the 
city.  A  cottage  at  Newport  awaited  them,  and  once 
there  they  could  plan  other  summer  tours.  It  would  take 
her  grandson  away  from  the  danger. 

Harry  entered  the  room  quietly.      His  fair,   high-bred 


IP  I  COULD    WIN    YOU    BACK.  435 

face  was  deadly  pale,  but  the  light  of  resolution  shone  in 
his  eyes. 

"  Why,  Harry ! "  and  she  started. 

He  laid  the  note  before  her. 

"  You  were  the  cause  of  this  being  written,"  he  said,  in  a 
sharp  voice,  that  seemed  to  cleave  the  very  air.  "You 
saw  Miss  Barretti  this  morning.  What  did  you  do  or 
say  that  she  should  have  hidden  herself  that  she  should 
be  ill." 

"  I  ?    Miss  Barretti  ill  1 " 

"  Grandmother,  you  do  know.  She  is  not  at  the  theatre 
to-night.  If  you  think  to  interfere,  —  if  you  have  driven 
her  away,  I  warn  you  that  I  will  search  the  whole  world 
over  for  her,  and  marry  her.  If  you  choose  that  grand- 
papa shall  disinherit  me,  let  him  then !  There  are  ways 
in  which  I  can  make  my  own  living,  and  by  the  heaven 
above,  I  will,  for  her  sake  ! " 

"  And  you  set  your  whole  family  at  naught  for  this  coarse, 
common  theatre-dancer,  who  cares  for  nothing  besides  your 
money !  You  break  my  heart,  your  mother's,  you  bring 
disgrace  upon  your  sisters,  you  kill  your  dear  old  grand- 
father, whose  very  life  is  centred  in  you  I  Take  that  step, 
Harry  Grenville,  and  you  become  a  murderer  1 " 

Her  voice  was  low,  but  telling  in  its  intensity.  The 
hnndsome  old  face  seemed  to  take  on  a  more  terrible 
beauty,  as  if  she  were  some  Sibyl  uttering  a  fateful  pre- 
diction. 

"What  did  you  say  to  her?  Tell  me  the  whole  truth. 
How  dared  you  go  1" 

"  I  could  dare  greater  things,  Harry,  to  save  you  from 
the  clutches  of  an  evil-minded,  designing  girl.  And  Harry," 
with  a  cruel  smile  in  the  keen  eyes,  "  I  penetrated  her 
motive.  When  I  told  her  that  your  family  would  surely 
disown  you,  I  struck  the  key-note  of  her  shameful  avarice. 
She  was  willing  to  give  you  up.  She  promised  readily 
enough.  I  went  prepared  to  buy  oif  her  claim.  I  was  not 


436  LOST  IN    A   GREAT   CITY. 

even  compelled  to  do  that.  Ah,  poor  foolish  boy !  Did 
she  blind  you  by  her  specious  arts,  and  make  you  believe 
she  loved  you  ?  " 

There  was  a  withering  scorn  in  Madame  Grenville's 
voice,  a  gleam  of  pitying  contempt  in  her  eyes.  It  stung 
her  grandson  to  the  quick. 

"  It  is  you  who  are  wrong,  mistaken  I n  he  cried  with 
passionate  earnestness.  "  You  who  have  so  poorly  read 
her  noble  soul.  She  knew  but  little  of  my  circumstances, 
she  never  questioned,  she  was  reluctant  to  be  bound  for 
fear  —  " 

"  She  was  both  wise  and  wary.  Women  of  that  stamp 
learn  these  tricks  in  their  cradles.  Believe  me  or  not,  I 
had  little  trouble  in  persuading  her  to  give  you  up  And 
look  at  this  letter !  Does  it  breathe  one  sentence  of  pas- 
sionate, despairing  love?  The  'fancy*  between  you  — 
that  was  all  it  ever  became  to  her.  She  liked  your  gifts, 
the  money  you  lavished  on  her." 

"  You  are  mistaken  there,"  was  the  bitter  reply.  "  She 
would  take  nothing  from  me  but  flowers.  She  was  honor 
and  delicacy  itself." 

u  Harry,  I  cannot  expect  you  to  listen  to  reason  now.  I 
will  give  you  the  credit  of  being  very  much  in  love.  You 
have  a  generous,  unsuspicious  nature.  I  saw  at  a  glance 
where  this  girl,  with  her  assumption  of  baby  guilelessness, 
had  worked  upon  your  soul,  how  easily  she  had  taken  you 
captive,  where  a  man  of  larger  experience  would  have  been 
wary.  I  wanted  to  see  her  to  judge  for  myself.  If  she  had 
been  capable  of  elevation,  of  refinement  —  " 

«  She  was  refinement  itself  1 "  he  interrupted  angrily. 

"  If  she  had  been  capable  of  gracing  a  different  sphere," 
continued  Madame  Grenville,  "  my  task  would  have  been 
much  more  difficult.  For  even  then  I  could  not  have  con- 
eented  to  receive  a  ballet-dancer  as  a  grand -daughter,  to 
place  her  low,  vulgar  associations  beside  your  sisters,  who 
have  been  so  carefully  guarded  from  all  evil.  Harry,  think 


IP  I   COULD   WIN   YOU  BACK.  437 

a  moment,  my  own  darling  boy !  Something  is  due  to 
your  family,  your  position.  Would  you  marry  a  woman 
of  whose  antecedents  you  must  be  forever  ashamed,  a 
woman  who  could  never  be  tolerated  anywhere  in  refined 
society ! " 

"  Her  antecedents !  Grandmamma,  she  went  on  the 
stage  three  months  ago,  to  save  a  whole  family  from  star- 
vation. Their  father,  who  is  a  sea-captain,  was  reported 
lost,  and  their  aunt  has  been  ill  for  months.  She  had  a 
wonderful  genius  for  dancing.  It  was  very  noble,  I  think ; 
but  does  a  few  months'  employment  change  one's  very 
being  ?  " 

"  We  will  not  argue  the  point,  Harry.  You  are  angry 
and  disappointed,  and  of  course  unreasonable.  If  it  came 
to  an  open  issue,  which  I  pray  heaven  to  avert,  you  would 
have  to  choose  between  us.  We  never  could  or  would 
receive  her.  Both  of  your  sisters  will  marry,  and  Grenville 
will  not  be  likely  to  go  a-begging  for  heirs.  For  the  rest 
I  assure  you,  when  I  left  Miss  Barretti,  she  said  nothing 
of  any  change  of  abode.  This  is  some  plan  of  her  own  — " 

"  And  you  did  not  ask  her  to  go  away  ?  " 

"  I  pledge  you  my  solemn  word,  Harry,  that  the  subject 
was  not  mentioned  between  us ;"  and  she  met  his  steady 
gaze  unflinchingly.  "  She  gave  you  up  so  readily  that  I 
asked  nothing  more.  Study  this  note,  and  I  think  you 
will  see  that  she  had  some  designs  of  her  own.  She  was 
not  at  the  theatre,  you  say ;  and  the  play  is  to  be  taken 
off  to-morrow?  Then  she  has  gone  out  of  the  city  with 
some  one." 

"  But  she  was  ill !     Madame  Denzil  said  so." 

"  111 !  The  picture  of  robust  health  this  morning,  and 
able  to  go  away  this  afternoon,  certainly  ; "  and  Madame 
Grenville  laughed  rather  derisively. 

Harry  bit  his  lip  with  pain  and  anger.  He  had  not  been 
treated  justly,  he  began  to  think.  Could  she  not  have  said 
one  tender  word  ? 


438  LOST  IN  A  GREAT   CITY. 

Ho  flung  himself  out  of  the  room  without  even  a  good- 
night,  his  very  soul  torn  with  passionate  anguish.  But 
find  her  he  would,  if  it  took  years.  She  should  explain  all 
this  mystery.  He  must  hear  from  her  own  lips  that  she  no 
longer  loved  him,  and  oh,  she  could  never  say  that ! 

His  efforts  the  next  day  were  fruitless.  Madame  Denzil 
was  so  divided  between  him  and  Roger  that  she  hesitated 
to  strengthen  his  passion,  if,  as  Queenie  intimated,  it  could 
bring  nothing  but  misery.  Even  she  did  not  know  the  full 
particulars  respecting  the  absent  father. 

There  was  nothing  then  but  patience,  that  much-derided 
but  hardest  of  all  virtues.  And  meanwhile  plans  went  on. 
Trunks  were  packed  and  sent;  a  servant  dispatched  to 
attend  to  the  cottage.  Blanche  was  the  only  one  who 
found  the  city  tolerable,  for  already  the  glowing  sun  began 
to  prefigure  summer  heats.  But  how  break  into  the  rap- 
ture of  this  sweet  love-dream  —  how  endure  separation, 
even  for  a  brief  while  ? 

Mrs.  Byington  had  not  objected  to  the  prospect  of  her 
son's  early  marriage.  She  had  so  longed  for  a  daughter, 
and  surely  Blanche  Grenville  would  have  met  and  filled 
any  requirements  as  to  exterior.  Tall  and  slender,  with  a 
graceful,  willowy  figure,  laughing  hazel  eyes,  and  abundant 
shining  brown  hair,  a  face,  if  not  critically  beautiful,  pos- 
sessing many  attractive  points,  and  a  manner  eminently 
winsome.  All  winter  the  young  people  had  seen  a  great 
deal  of  each  other,  and  at  last  it  had  culminated  in  ortho- 
dox style.  Parents'  consent  would  be  but  a  formula  of 
respect.  Lawrence  did  his  part  with  sincerity  and  truth, 
and  was  received  most  cordially  by  the  Grenville  con- 
nection. 

"  I  wish,  mother  dear,  that  you  could  spare  sufficient 
time  and  interest  from  our  new-found  prize,"  Lawrence 
said,  "  to  call  on  the  Grenvilles  with  me.  The  last  of  the 
week  they  go  to  Newport.  And  I  should  like  —  I  wish 


IP  I   COULD   WIN   YOU  BACK.  439 

they  could  come  here.  One  of  your  delightful  little  din- 
ners, for  instance." 

"  Why,  yes,  my  darling  Lai.  You  are  not  to  be  forgotten 
in  this  wonderful  daughter,  whose  own  father  must  claim 
her  presently.  Indeed,  I  am  delighted  with  Blanche,  and 
she  will  find  no  grim,  exacting  mother-in-law  in  me.  I 
want  her  to  love  me,  Lai,  and  not  be  afraid  or  suspicious." 

"  She  will,  I  am  sure,  when  she  comes  to  know  you  well. 
And,  mamma  mine,  if  we  could  arrange  to  go  to  New- 
port —  " 

"  As  well  there  as  anywhere." 

"  And  about  the  dinner  ?  " 

"When  do  they  leave  —  on  Friday?  Would  Wednesday 
be  too  soon  ?  Why,  I  might  go  with  you  this  very  even- 
ing, if  you  desired,  and  give  them  the  invitation." 

"  That  will  be  the  very  thing.  Let  me  order  the  car- 
riage immediately.  Dear  mamma ! "  and  Lawrence  kissed 
her  fondly. 

There  was  a  little  pang  at  her  heart,  but  she  was  too 
unselfish  to  show  it.  Marrying  and  being  given  in  mar- 
riage was  the  way  of  the  world,  and  she  did  rejoice  in  her 
son's  happiness.  So  she  made  herself  ready,  and  accom- 
panied him. 

Harry  and  Lucia  were  out,  but  the  elders  received  Mrs. 
Byington  with  charming  courtesy  and  cordiality.  Blanche 
was  shy  and  sweet,  but  her  new  mother  elect  took  her  to 
her  heart  at  once.  The  call  was  shorn  of  anything  like 
awkwardness  and  formality. 

She  gave  her  invitation,  and  it  was  accepted.  Mr.  Gren- 
ville  rarely  went  out,  but  he  would  be  very  happy  to  make 
an  exception  in  this  case.  And  so  the  matter  was  settled. 

"  Edward,"  began  Mrs.  Byington  when  they  were  alone 
that  evening,  "while  I  was  calling  at  the  Grenvilles  an  odd 
idea  struck  me.  Do  you  remember  that  Queenie's  mother'a 
name  was  Grenville,  that  she  belonged  to  a  wealthy  South 


440  LOST  IN  A   GREAT   CITY. 

ern  family,  and  eloped  with  Mr.  Waldeburgh,  being  dig* 
owned  for  the  act.  What  if —  " 

"  Oh,  my  dear  Alice,  I  strictly  forbid  your  conjuring  up 
another  romance.  Our  little  Queenie  will  think  the  main 
business  of  life  is  hunting  up  relatives.  I  am  quite  certain 
this  old  Mr.  Grenville  had  only  the  one  son,  who  is  dead. 
There  are  three  grandchildren  —  we  never  heard  of  any 
others." 

"  We  should  not  be  likely  to,  under  such  circumstances. 
It  is  rather  curious.  I  wonder  —  but  Maggie  knew  next 
to  nothing." 

"Do  not  trouble  your  wise  little  head  about  it.  And 
say  nothing  to  Queenie." 

No,  she  would  not  utter  a  word  on  the  subject.  Yet  she 
could  not  dismiss  the  thought.  And  watching  Queenie 
she  fancied  she  discerned  something  of  the  same  grace  and 
dignity,  that  subtile  family  resemblance  so  elusive  for  de- 
scription, but  making  itself  felt  in  many  ways. 

Little  Queenie !  They  all  adopted  the  name  so  readily. 
It  seemed  just  to  fit  her.  And  oh,  how  radiantly  happy 
she  was  !  Her  wonderful  grace  of  adaptiveness  made  her 
as  much  at  home  in  this  elegant  house,  with  servants  to 
wait  on  every  turn,  as  she  had  been  in  Miss  Madeira's  sim- 
ple cottage.  All  refined  and  cultured  ways  came  to  her 
instinctively. 

"  She  might  have  lived  in  a  palace  all  her  life,"  said 
Roger  admiringly  to  his  aunt.  "  Isn't  it  astonishing  ?  And 
though  she  thinks  she's  fearfully  ignorant,  I  wonder  where 
she  picked  up  so  much  knowledge  !  Why,  we  could  take 
her  anywhere  without  a  bit  of  polishing.  And  then  her 
lovely  voice ! " 

She  amazed  Roger  still  more,  one  morning,  by  running 
over  a  rather  difficult  exercise  very  correctly. 

«  Well,  you  are  a  marvel ! "  he  exclaimed.  "  Did  you 
learn  piano-playing  in  that  fairy-ring,  with  the  small  people? 
I  begin  to  think  you  a  trifle  uncanny." 


IP  I  COULD  WIN  YOU  BACK.          441 

"  Oh,  don't  laugh  at  me,"  and  she  raised  her  lovely  eyes 
with  that  shy,  deprecating  look  so  absolutely  bewitching ; 
u  I  did  have  a  teacher.  And  we  had  a  piano." 

"  We  ?  Who,  pray  tell !  You  have  been  in  so  many 
phases  of  existence." 

"  At  Miss  Madeira's."  And  then  came  out  the  story  of 
the  ill-fated  piano. 

u  See  here ! "  exclaimed  Roger.  M  You  don't  mean  that 
you  are  to  lose  all  that  money  unless  you  redeem  it  by 
July  ?  The  fellow  is  a  mean  old  hunks,  anyhow.  Now 
I'll  tell  you  what  we  will  do.  You  just  put  on  a  hat,  and 
I'll  order  the  carriage,  and  we  will  go  and  pay  this  bill, 
and  have  the  piano  sent  back  in  a  jiffy." 

"You  — "  with  startled  surprise  in  every  line  of  her 
sweet  face. 

"  Yes.  I  have  a  Fortunatus  purse  —  maybe  you  didn't 
know  it  ?  My  dear,  generous  Fortunatus  is  in  California, 
the  best  and  loveliest  prince  in  the  wide  world.  I  mean 
you  to  see  him  some  day.  And  he  thinks,  funniest  of  all, 
that  I  am  only  a  little  boy  yet,  and  can  hardly  be  trusted 
away  from  aunt  Alice's  motherly  wing,  though  I  have 
been  all  over  Europe.  And  so  we  will  go  out  and  try  our 
enchantment  on  this  piano." 

It  was  the  first  time  she  had  been  out  alone  with  him. 
He  was  so  gay  and  fascinating  that  she  listened  to  his 
bright  sallies,  and  laughed,  her  own  low,  musical  ripple. 

When  that  business  was  satisfactorily  adjusted  they  went 
to  call  on  Miss  Madeira,  dear  old  Miss  Madeira,  who  had 
cried  more  longing  tears  for  Queenie  than  she  would  have 
liked  to  admit,  though  she  gave  thanks  every  hour  for  the 
good  fortune.  And  then  Roger  declared  he  would  bring 
the  great  family  carriage  around  the  next  morning,  and 
take  out  the  whole  host  for  a  frolic. 

What  a  grand,  rare  frolic  it  was !  The  children,  Miss 
Madeira  declared,  were  "let  loose."  Moppet  did  put  on  a 
few  "  big  girl "  airs,  but  Pug  was  too  riotous,  and  the  twins 


442  LOST   IN    A   GREAT   CITY. 

so  solemnly  funny.  They  went  rcund  and  round  the  drives, 
viewed  the  animals;  they  had  a  grand  feast  of  refresh- 
ments ;  and  it  was  two  o'clock  before  Roger  set  them  down 
at  their  own  door. 

"  How  very,  very  good  you  are  to  take  so  much  trouble 
for  —  "  and  Queenie  blushed  enchantingly. 

"  A  noisy  crew  of  youngsters !  And  yet  they  are  very 
'likable.'  How  they  all  adore  you.  And  that  quaint  Miss 
Madeira !  Do  you  know  I  feel  like  screaming  with  laugh- 
ter when  she  claps  her  decapitated  sentences  together,  like 
the  man  did  his  dog,  with  two  legs  up  and  two  legs  down." 

Queenie  laughed,  too. 

"  There,  what  are  you  thinking  of  now  ?  You  have  the 
most  wonderful  face.  Did  you  ever  see  a  great  field  of 
waving  grass  or  grain  on  a  summer  day,  when  some  tiny 
cloud  drifted  over  the  sun  ?  Here  there  will  be  a  dimple 
of  shade,  there  a  bit  of  sun,  and  both  rippling  over  it  as  if 
they  were  playing  hide-and-seek.  And  that's  just  the  way 
the  beautiful  changes  go  over  your  face,"  and  Roger's 
glance  seemed  to  devour  it. 

She  was  quite  grave  then. 

"  I  was  thinking,"  she  said,  "of  the  time  when  we  first 
came  to  New  York.  I  used  to  take  the  twins  up  to  the 
Park  in  a  baby-carriage,  and  watch  the  great  people  who 
went  riding  by,  in  their  beautiful  attire.  And  I  used  to 
plan  that  if  I  ever  did  get  rich  I'd  stop  by  the  wayside 
and  take  in  some  stray,  forlorn  child,  and  give  it  such  a 
long,  lovely  ride.  And  now  you  have  done  it,  —  oh,  Mr. 
Lasselle,  I  can  never,  never  tell  you  how  I  appreciate  your 
kindness,"  and  the  tears  made  limpid  lakes  of  her  tender 
eyes. 

"  See  here,"  he  said,  much  moved  by  the  strand  of  pathos 
in  her  voice,  "  you  have  been  adopted  in  the  bosom  of  the 
family,  and  we  can't  help  calling  you  Queenie;  so  you 
must  say  Roger,  and  Lai,  and  aunt  Alice,  and  uncle  Ed- 
ward. Begin  with  Roger,  won't  you?"  , 


IF  I  COULD   WIN   YOU   BACK.  443 

A  scarlet  light  flashed  up  in  her  face,  and  her  eyes  were 
shyly  downcast.  She  said  it  softly,  under  her  breath,  and 
he  almost  guessed  that  she  did  by  the  quiver  of  the  lips. 

Aunt  Alice  scolded  a  little  at  Roger's  keeping  her  out 
so  long.  Maggie  wanted  to  alter  a  white  dress,  and  there 
was  to  be  company  to  dinner. 

"Lai's  betrothed,"  explained  Roger;  "so  you  see,  Miss 
Queenie,  you  have  a  powerful  rival  in  that  young  man's 
affections.  He  will  have  no  eyes  nor  ears  for  any  one  but 
her,  and  I  must  take  you  in  to  dinner.  Maggie,  make  her 
outshine  everybody." 

Queenie  did  not  ask  any  questions.  The  sudden  remem- 
brance flashed  over  her  that  a  week  ago  she  too  had  a 
lover.  Did  she  regret  him  ? 

Her  heart  was  in  a  complex  state.  How  much  duty  she 
owed  Harry  Grenville,  now  that  she  had  the  birth  and 
wealth  of  his  station,  she  could  not  decide.  There  was 
the  taint  of  the  stage  still,  and  that  his  grandmother  had 
so  bitterly  denounced.  If  she  could  only  summon  the 
requisite  courage  to  confess  to  Mrs.  Byington,  and  let  her 
decide  what  would  be  right.  Madame  Denzil  had  gone  to 
Chicago,  Miss  Madeira  had  been  purposely  left  in  igno- 
rance of  her  abode.  And  every  one  was  so  completely 
engrossed  with  Queenie's  affairs  that  Miss  Grenville  had 
not  been  discussed.  On  the  other  hand,  Lawrence  had 
been  occupied  with  his  fair  betrothed,  and  her  speedy  de- 
parture, and  their  own  interests  were  sufficient  for  them. 
Thus  it  happened  that  the  name  of  Grenville  had  not  been 
mentioned. 

Queenie  stood  in  the  doorway,  radiantly  beautiful  in  her 
fine  white  organdie,  with  a  pale-green  sash  and  her  loose- 
flowing  curls  fastened  at  the  back  with  a  knot  of  the  same 
color,  while  at  her  throat  was  a  cluster  of  pale  pink  rose- 
buds. 

"  Come,"  Roger  said,  quite  entranced  with  her  love- 
liness. "They  are  all  here,  and  aunt  Alice  bade  m« 


444  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

bring  you  down,"  slipping  her  unresisting  hand  through 
his  arm. 

She  entered  the  spacious  drawing-room  unabashed.  Here 
sat  a  pale,  thin,  aristocratic-looking  old  gentleman,  a  very 
picture,  in  a  crimson  velvet  chair ;  a  middle-aged,  rather 
faded  woman  beside  him,  two  tall,  blooming  girls  —  and 
then  Queenie's  breath  came  in  a  great  frightened  bound, 
and  the  room  seemed  full  of  glittering  stars. 

"Miss  Waldeburgh,"  Mrs.  Byington  had  announced. 
"Mr.  Grenville,  my  dear,"  to  Queenie,  "Mrs.  Grenville, 
Miss  Grenville,  and  Miss  Blanche,  and"  —  turning  her  quite 
around  —  "  Madame  Grenville." 

"Miss  —  who?"  asked  Madame  Grenville,  sharply,  for- 
getting, in  her  amazement,  her  faultless  breeding. 

"  Miss  Waldeburgh,"  repeated  Mrs.  Byington,  startled, 
in  her  turn,  with  the  change  in  the  face  before  her. 

"  Ah  1 "  with  a  touch  of  scorn  that  bordered  on  insolence. 
"  I  think  I  have  known  Miss  Waldeburgh  under  another 
name,  several  names,  in  fact.  Are  you  aware  —  " 

"  Of  more,  doubtless,  than  you  can  tell  me,"  answered 
Mrs.  Byington,  with  stately  composure.  "  This  young  girl 
has  had  a  most  singular  history.  Nine  years  ago  she  was 
lost  in  this  city,  and  only  last  week  was  restored  to  her 
friends.  Her  father  is  an  Austrian  nobleman,  at  present  in 
Home ;  her  mother,  oddly  enough,  was  named  Grenville." 

Madame  Grenville  turned  frightfully  pale,  but  stared  at 
the  two  as  if  they  had  unearthed  some  fatal  plot. 

Mrs.  Byington's  voice  had  been  low,  but  distinct.  Mr. 
Grenville  started  suddenly  and  came  forward,  his  slender 
form  swaying  with  agitation. 

"  What  are  you  saying,  Madame  —  Waldeburgh  ?  And 
her  mother's  name  Grenville  ?  Impossible !  I  once  had  a 
daughter  —  child,  let  me  look  at  you.  Such  a  strange 
coincidence !  But  Sophia,"  —  to  his  wife,  —  M  you  learned 
thai  she  was  dead.  Yes.  We  had  a  public  and  legal 
announcement.  And  she  left  no  children.  Her  two  baby 


IP   I    COULD   WIN   YOU   BACK.  445 

boys  died  —  her  husband  deserted  her  —  there  must  be 
some  mistake,"  —  and  he  glanced  wildly  at  the  three. 

w  If  your  daughter's  name  was  Ellen  Grenville,  she  was 
surely  Miss  Waldeburgh's  mother.  I  have  a  servant  in 
my  family  who  lived  with  her,  who  saw  her  die,  who 
brought  the  child  to  this  city.  Her  father  was  languishing 
in  a  foreign  prison  on  account  of  some  political  trouble. 
He  has  since  been  our  guest,  and  we  have  found  him  an 
honorable  and  cultivated  gentleman,"  was  Mrs.  Byingtou's 
concise  explanation. 

"My  God,  Sophia!  How  could  this  fearful  mistake 
have  occurred  ?  Could  I  see  this  domestic,  madame  ?  "  to 
Mrs.  Byington. 

"  You  will  exert  yourself  too  much,"  and  Madame  Gren- 
ville seated  him  in  a  chair.  He  did  seem  exhausted. 

"  No,  no ;  let  me  see  her.  I  must  know  the  truth.  My 
child ! "  and  he  placed  his  trembling  hand  on  Queenie's 
shoulder. 

"  Nay,  I  insist,"  exclaimed  Madame  Grenville.  "  Let 
Mrs.  Byington  tell  her  story.  How  or  where  did  she  find 
this  child,  and  how  could  she  identify  it  after  so  many 
years.  We  will  not  excite  ourselves  unduly." 

The  others  had  crowded  around  Queenie  and  were 
studying  her  with  unfeigned  curiosity.  She  felt  so  strange 
among  them,  she  understood  in  the  depths  of  her  soul  that 
Madame  Grenville  was  unfriendly,  that  if  a  look  could  anni- 
hilate, she  would  be  swept  out  of  existence.  Then  Roger 
came  and  placed  his  arm  around  her  protectingly.  Ah,  if 
she  might  belong  to  him !  She  understood  then  who  was 
keeper  of  her  heart. 

"  The  story  is  long,  but  I  will  try  to  go  over  it  briefly," 
Mrs.  Byington  said,  feeling  that  there  was  some  reason 
why  Madame  Grenville  wished  to  exclude  Queenie  from 
the  family  circle.  She  repeated  her  side  first,  her  inter- 
views with  Mr.  Waldeburgh,  and  his  errand  abroad.  He 
had  been  concerned  in  some  political  sympathy  with  Hun' 


446  LOST  IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 

gary,  and  left  his  native  land  in  consequence  of  it, 
Shortly  after  occurred  his  elopement  with  Miss  Grenville. 
After  the  death  of  the  little  boys  he  had  resolved  to  return 
to  Austria  for  a  fortune  that  awaited  him,  being  advised  that 
it  was  perfectly  safe.  He  had  been  arrested  and  thrown 
into  prison,  was  there,  in  fact,  at  the  death  of  his  wife, 
but  released  soon  after,  and  returned  to  America,  where 
every  effort  was  made  to  find  his  daughter.  Then  she 
took  up  the  startling  changes  that  had  befallen  the  child, 
the  corroboration  of  all  in  the  testimony  of  Tim  Chafney, 
Kate  Bridget,  Miss  Madeira,  and  Queenie's  own  remem- 
brance. 

At  this  point  they  were  interrupted  by  the  summons  to 
dinner. 

"  Oh,  you  wonderful  little  being  1 "  exclaimed  Blanche, 
clasping  her  arms  around  Queenie  impulsively.  "What  a 
strange,  romantic  history !  And  you  are  really  our  cousin ! 
There  can  not  be  a  doubt,  grandpapa." 

Madame  Grenville  went  through  the  dinner  with  the 
stateliest  dignity,  but  at  heart  she  was  stunned.  "Oh,  what 
a  horrible  blunder  that  of  last  week  had  been!  If  she  had 
but  let  Harry  and  his  affairs  alone.  And  then  —  " 

They  could  not  see  her  thoughts.  The  strangeness  was 
broken  up,  the  young  people  were  all  interest  and  excite- 
ment. Old  Mr,  Grenville  watched  the  beautiful  girl,  so 
much  more  radiantly  lovely  than  his  own  daughter,  and 
yet  with  a  curious  resemblance.  They  sat  over  the  dessert 
half  the  evening,  as  if  entranced  by  a  magic  spelL 

Mr.  Byington  rose  presently. 

"Our  little  festivity,"  he  began,  "has  had  its  complexion 
quite  changed.  We  came  together  to-day  more  especially 
to  ratify  the  proper  ending  of  a  lover's  romance,  to  wel- 
come a  daughter  to  our  heart  and  home,  and  to  bid  these 
two  young  people  God  speed  in  the  new  path  they  have 
chosen  for  themselves.  It  is  one  of  those  fortunate  rela- 
tions, entered  into  with  the  readiest  consent  of  all  con- 


IP  I   COULD  WIN   YOU   BACK.  447 

eerned,  and  God  grant  that  you,  Mrs.  Grenville,  may  indeed 
find  a  son,  as  we  shall  find,  what  we  have  longed  for  so 
many  years,  —  a  daughter.  I  propose  the  health  of  Miss 
Blanche,  and  my  son  Lawrence." 

Lawrence  was  covered  with  blushing  honors.  Roger 
sprang  up  and  made  a  bright  answer  in  behalf  of  his 
cousin.  They  adjourned  to  the  drawing-room,  while  Mr. 
Grenville  and  Maggie  were  closeted  in  the  library  for  a 
long  while. 

"  There  can  be  no  doubt,"  said  Mr.  Grenville,  as  he  re- 
joined the  company.  "  Queenie,  I  am  your  grandfather. 
But  I  never  so  much  as  dreamed  of  your  existence." 


±48  LOST  IN    A    GREAT   CITY. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIL 

MADAME  GRENVILLE'S  LAST  STAKE. 

THEY  parted  with  much  real  warmth  on  the  side  of 
every  one  save  Madame  Grenville.  This  new  relative  had 
come  in  most  inopportunely. 

Madame  Grenville  was  a  second  wife.  Mrs.  Ogilvie  and 
her  daughter  had  met  the  Grenvilles  at  the  Silver  Springs 
one  summer,  and  out  of  it  had  grown  two  matches.  Not 
satisfied  with  this,  she  had  tried  to  rnarry  Ellen  Grenville 
to  a  wealthy  and  somewhat  dissolute  bachelor,  twice  her 
age.  Victor  Waldeburgh,  a  young  and  handsome  foreign 
exile,  won  her  heart.  He  had  birth,  breeding,  and  educa- 
tion, but  at  present  limited  means,  and  was  peremptorily 
refused. 

Wisely  or  not,  they  had  united  their  destinies.  The 
prospect  of  gaining  sufficient  to  keep  his  wife  in  compara- 
tive comfort  had  lured  him  to  his  native  land,  with  what 
disastrous  results  the  reader  knows.  Latterly  an  uncle 
had  died,  from  whom  he  inherited  a  title,  with  the  rocky, 
dilapidated  barony  of  Waldeburgh,  and  another  small  for- 
tune. For  years  he  had  indulged  in  his  passion  for  art, 
and  won  considerable  reputation  as  a  careful  and  pains- 
taking artist.  Queenie  could  well  afford  to  be  proud  of 
her  father. 

The  child  shook  off  Roger,  and  ran  up  to  Mrs.  Bying- 
ton's  room.  With  passionate  vehemence  she  poured  forth 
her  confession,  her  acquaintance  with  Harry,  her  interview 
with  her  grandmother. 

"You  astound  me,  Queenie !"  returned  Mrs.  Byiugtou. 


MADAME  GRENVILLE'S  LAST  STAKE.  449 

*  Will  we  never  get  to  the  end  of  these  wonders  ?     And 
/ou  love  your  cousin  1 " 

"  Oh,  not  that  way ! "  cried  Queenie,  in  dismay.  w  I  am 
glad  now  that  he  is  my  cousin." 

"And  that  accounts  for  Madame  Grenville's  unusual  be- 
havior. I  suppose  she  must  have  been  more  than  aston- 
ished. Well,  Queenie,  I  am  glad  you  did  not  tell  me 
before.  I  had  a  dim  suspicion  there  might  be  some  rela- 
tion, just  from  the  similarity  of  name.  And  you  are  quite 
sure  you  are  not  in  love  with  this  handsome,  chivalrous, 
young  cousin  ?  " 

"  I  seem  to  understand,  now,"  Queenie  replied,  dreamily. 
"  Was  I  so  very  weak  and  wrong  ?  " 

Mrs.  Byington  clasped  her  to  her  heart  in  a  transport 
that  Queenie  could  not  comprehend. 

"  You  must  see  your  father  before  you  decide  any  such 
matter,"  she  said.  "  And  now  good-night,  little  one,  Mag- 
gie has  been  waiting  for  you  this  long  while." 

Roger  was  lingering  impatiently,  too,  just  for  one  last 
glance. 

"  You  are  not  to  go  away  with  the  Grenvilles,"  he  de- 
clared in  an  imperious  whisper.  "  You  belong  to  us." 

"  I  do  not  want  to  go,"  was  her  simple  answer. 

Mr.  Grenville  was  very  feeble  the  next  morning.  His 
breakfast  was  brought  to  him  in  bed.  For  many  years  he 
had  been  suffering  with  an  incurable  malady,  and  held  bia 
life  on  a  frail  tenure. 

"  I  wish  you  would  tell  Harry,"  he  said  to  his  wife.  "  1 
cannot  bear  the  excitement  of  again  going  over  the  story. 
Then  I  want  you  all  to  come  in  my  room.  You  know  this 
will  make  a  great  difference  to  us." 

She  turned  her  glittering  eyes  full  upon  him  with 
a  wordless  question  in  their  depths.  It  made  him 
shiver. 

"No;"   and  his  voice  had  a  curiously  hollow  sound. 
u  It  belongs  to  her,  Sophia.     It  came  in  her  mother's  right 
29 


450  LOST   IN   A   GREAT   CITY. 

I  never  have  wronged  any  human  being  out  of  a  penny 
I  could  not  now." 

"  But  her  father  is  wealthy.  She  is  only  one,  and  there 
are  three  —  " 

"  Don't  tempt  me.  Harry  will  agree  with  me,  I  know ; " 
and  the  weary  eyes  closed  as  he  laid  his  head  back  on  the 
pillow. 

Blanche  had  been  beforehand.  She  had  waylaid  Harry, 
and  teased  him  a  while  about  his  refusal  to  go  to  the 
Byingtons  the  evening  before,  and  then  glowingly  de- 
scribed the  incident,  the  new-found  cousin,  and  the  won- 
derfm  surprise. 

"  Not  Miss  Barretti !  "  and  he  dropped  into  a  chair. 

"Yes.  And  Lai  told  me  —  but  this  is  a  sort  of  se- 
cret—  that  she  was  dancing  in  the  Enchanted  Princess. 
Why,  we  have  all  seen  her!  and  she  is  an  enchanted 
princess  herself,  —  so  lovely,  so  sweet,  and  so  remarkable ! 
The  Byingtons  just  adore  her.  I  saw  that  famous  Roger 
last  night,  and  he  is  splendid  !  " 

"  Queenie ! "  It  was  all  he  could  say  for  many  moments. 
Would  she  love  him  now  ?  Oh,  if  grandmamma  had  not 
gone  on  that  insulting  errand ! 

They  were  summoned  to  Mr.  Grenville's  room. 

"  Children,"  said  the  old  man,  feebly,  "  I  have  an  expla- 
nation to  make  to  you.  I  disinherited  my  daughter  Ellen 
on  her  marriage,  as  you  all  know.  I  may  have  been  cruel, 
but  the  disgrace  of  an  elopement  with  a  foreigner  stung  me 
so  keenly.  Your  father  had  been  married  several  years 
then,  and  I  made  him  my  sole  heir.  I  had  two  or  three 
letters  from  my  daughter,  which  I  never  answered.  God 
forgive  me ! " 

Did  the  grand  old  woman  sitting  there  beside  her  hus- 
band think  that  she  might  be  any  to  blame  for  the  coldness 
and  bitterness  to  her  stepdaughter  ? 

He  resumed.  w  She  had  been  away  about  eight  years,  1 
think,  when  an  old  aunt  of  her  own  mother  died.  This 


MADAME  GRENVILLE'S  LAST  STAKE.  451 

woman  had  lived  in  a  most  miserly  and  obscure  manne^ 
enurlish  alike  to  friends  and  relatives.  She  had,  from  time 
to  time,  made  shrewd  investments  in  real  estate  and  stocks, 
and  at  the  age  of  ninety-three  died  worth  half  a  million. 
All  this  she  left  to  my  daughter  Ellen,  her  heirs  and  as- 
signs. We  instituted  a  search  for  her,  and  at  last  learned 
that  she  had  just  died.  There  were  two  little  boys  of  whose 
death  we  found  a  record.  The  husband  we  could  not  trace. 
Singularly  enough,  the  little  girl  seems  never  to  have  been 
mentioned,  by  some  inadvertence,  and  when  two  years 
elapsed,  and  there  were  no  claimants,  I  took  possession  as 
my  daughter's  heir.  So  you  see  we  have  this  child's  for- 
tune in  our  hands." 

A  close  observer  might  have  noted  the  changes  that 
passed  over  Madame  Grenville's  face.  Maggie,  ignorant 
of  the  great  wrong  that  had  been  done  Queenie,  had  not 
confessed  the  fact  of  her  strange  visitor  to  Mr.  Grenville. 
In  truth,  she  had  not  half  suspected  until  later,  when  she 
saw  the  handsome  old  face  in  the  hall,  hardly  changed 
since  that  June  day.  And  so  Madame  Grenville  had  just 
escaped  a  disgrace  that  would  have  been  bitter  and  humili- 
ating in  the  extreme.  She  had  schemed  for  her  daugh. 
ter's  children,  salving  over  her  conscience  with  the  thought 
that  they  were  Grenvilles  as  well. 

"  Honor  will  lead  us  to  make  restitution.  I  hope  you 
agree  with  me,  Harry.  It  will  come  harder  on  you 
than  the  others ; "  and  he  studied  the  proud  young  face, 
keenly. 

"  Agree !  O  grandpapa,  I  am  thankful  that  we  have 
something  to  give  her  to  make  amends  for  the  hard, 
dreary  life !  No,  I  would  never  touch  a  penny  of  it  1  '* 
and  the  voice  rang  out  with  no  uncertain  sound.  Ah, 
would  he  have  dreaded  poverty  with  his  love  ? 

Half  a  million  swept  away !     Even  now  Madame  Gren- 
ville  could  have  found  it  in  her  heart  to  strangle  Queenie. 
had  not  the  child  died  in  a  hospital,  or  gone  irretriev 


452  LOST  IN   A  GREAT  CITY. 

ably  astray?  Had  some  beneficent  fortune  watched  over 
her? 

"  Thank  you,  my  brave,  darling  boy ; "  and  the  old  man 
smiled  sweetly.  "  You  must  help  me  to  arrange  this  mat- 
ter, Harry.  As  soon  as  we  are  settled  at  Newport  we  must 
take  it  in  hand.  I  am  so  glad  to  find  that  we  feel  alike  on 
the  subject." 

The  waiter  tapped  at  the  door,  with  a  note  for  Madame 
Grenville.  Her  cheek  blanched  a  little  as  she  read. 

u  I  must  see  a  person  on  some  business ! "  she  exclaimed, 
as  if  she  was  rather  annoyed  at  the  summons. 

Down  to  the  small  reception-room  she  went,  closing  the 
door  carefully  behind  her.  A  plainly-dressed  woman  stood 
by  the  window. 

"  What  is  your  business  with  me  ?  "  was  Madame  Gren- 
ville's  sharp  query. 

Margaret  Donald  turned,  and  met  her  gaze  unflinchingly. 

M I  saw  you  last  evening,"  the  girl  began,  "  and  recog- 
nized you  as  the  lady  who  came  to  talk  about  my  dead 
mistress.  You  were  her  stepmother.  Not  satisfied  with 
having  her  discarded  you  tried  to  thrust  her  child  out  of 
sight.  What  story  did  you  tell  her  father  on  your  return 
home?"  and  the  clear  eyes  arraigned  the  stately  woman 
before  her. 

"You  do  not  know  him"  was  the  reply  in  eager  extenu- 
ation. u  He  is  pitiful  now,  but  he  was  angry  and  implaca- 
ble then.  Miss  Grenville's  marriage  was  treated  as  a 
myth.  How  could  we  tell  that  the  man  was  honorable  ?  " 
glancing  up  defiantly.  "He  might  have  had  a  wife  already 
—  such  things  have  been." 

"I  have  come  to  return  this;"  and  Maggie  pulled  a 
packet  from  her  bosom.  "  It  was  a  snare  and  a  curse  to 
me  from  the  first  moment.  It  led  me  to  covet  the  child 
with  an  unholy  love.  I  have  hated  it,  loathed  it !  Here 
is  the  sum,  principal  and  interest.  Take  it,  or  I  shall  throw 
it  into  the  river!  I  will  not  keep  it  another  day  I" 


MADAME  GRENVILLE'S  LAST  STAKE.  453 

She  thrust  the  roll  of  money  into  the  soft,  jewelled  hand. 
Madame  Grenville  stared  in  utter  amazement. 

"My  good  woman,  I  never  go  back  from  a  bargain  — n 

"  I  will  not  have  it !  My  hands  shall  be  clean  for  my 
darling!"  she  answered,  defiantly. 

"  You  cannot  understand  it  all,"  said  the  haughty  old 
lady,  with  a  passionate  tremble  in  her  voice.  "  I  did  it  for 
the  best.  I  did  not  waat  the  child  to  suffer  — " 

It  was  still  possible  to  save  herself  from  infamy.  The 
scheme  that  had  looked  so  plausible  years  ago  would 
blacken  her  now  in  the  eyes  of  those  she  had  striven  to 
enrich  by  her  sin.  But  she  must  sue  to  this  woman,  trail 
her  giant  pride  in  the  dust,  and  that  was  infinitely  bitter. 

"I  believe  you  to  be  a  trusty,  conscientious  person,"  and 
her  tone  softened  with  deceitful  grace.  "  There  was  a  great 
mistake,  as  I  learned  afterward.  It  was  impossible  then 
to  find  you.  Since  matters  have  turned  out  so  romanti« 
cally  well  for  your  favorite,  I  desire  to  ask  a  promise  —  a 
favor  —  " 

"  Do  not  count  too  much  on  me.** 

"  It  is  this,  —  easy  enough  for  you  to  grant,  unless  you 
wish  to  embitter  Miss  Waldeburgh  against  her  own  rela- 
tives. Promise  me  that  you  will  never  mention  that  inter- 
view to  a  living  soul." 

"  Willingly ;  "  and  yet  Margaret  studied  the  face  before 
her  with  a  half  misgiving. 

"  Swear  it.     Let  me  depend  upon  you  to  the  utmost." 

"You  may,  certainly.  I  hate  myself  for  having  even 
listened  to  the  temptation.  God  took  her  out  of  my 
hands,  and  my  punishment  must  be  the  thought  of  my 
darling's  sufferings.  No,  I  cannot  bear  to  have  her  despise 
me." 

"  Then  I  trust  you  implicitly,  —  remember  that.  Yet  I 
wish  you  would  keep  the  money  as  a  gift — " 

"  No,  no  1 "  and  the  girl  shivered.  tt  That  was  all  I  had 
to  say." 


454  LOST  IN  A  GREAT   CITY. 

Madame  Grenville  bowed  a  polite  dismissal,  and  Margaret 
withdrew ;  a  long  breath  of  satisfaction  welling  up  from 
her  soul.  Nor  was  her  hostess  less  relieved.  The  family 
would  never  know  this,  and  she  could  still  hold  her  head 
high  among  them.  But  oh,  the  fatal  madness  of  her  visit 
to  Queenie !  If  Harry  could  have  known  how  keenly  she 
bewailed  this  blunder  it  might  have  proved  a  comfort  as 
to  her  punishment. 

But  the  present  sting  was  the  haunting  fear  that  Harry 
had  not  been  loved  with  the  ardor  of  a  young  girl's  first 
absorbing  regard.  It  might  have  been  fanned  into  an 
abiding  flame.  Had  the  golden  moment  really  gone  by  ? 
Here  was  that  fascinating  Roger  Lasselle,  a  hero  in  her 
eyes,  doubtless,  and  the  haughty  woman  bit  her  lip  at  hav- 
ing thus  outwitted  herself. 

As  for  Harry  Grenville,  he  felt  crushed  and  stunned. 
His  generous  soul  had  delighted  in  the  prospect  of  bestow- 
ing so  much  upon  her,  —  could  he  turn  and  woo  her  as  an 
heiress?  Would  not  the  Byingtons  believe  him  actuated 
by  mercenary  motives  ?  Had  she  known  that  day  when 
she  went  away  so  joyfully,  leaving  him  no  clue  ? 

He  had  insisted  that  the  facts  should  be  made  known  to 
her  as  soon  as  possible.  For  a  while  at  least,  he  must 
stand  aloof.  If  she  loved  him  — 

"  Clara,"  Madame  Grenville  said  graciously  at  lunch,  turn- 
ing to  her  daughter,  "I  think  you  and  Blanche  ought  to 
call  on  Miss  Waldeburgh,  and  ask  her  to  come  to  us  at 
Newport.  We  were  all  so  startled  and  confused  last  even- 
ing. Her  grandfather  is  anxious  the  breach  shall  be  healed, 
and  if  we  were  cool  now,  it  would  be  attributed  to  our  dis- 
inclination to  give  up  the  fortune.  No  one  can  regret  that 
unfortunate  stage  episode  more  than  I ; "  and  she  glanced 
around  with  proud  complacency ;  "  but  I  think  it  can  be 
managed  if  the  Byingtons  are  careful,  so  that  the  world 
shall  know  nothing  about  it." 

"  Grandmamma,"  Harry  interrupted  pointedly,  "  I  think 


MADAME  GRENVILLE'S  LAST  STAKEL  455 

it  the  noblest  act  that  could  crown  any  life.  She  di<\  not 
do  it  for  fame,  or  from  any  sense  of  pleasure  to  herself,  but 
for  others." 

"We  cannot  publish  her  motives  to  the  whole  world, 
Harry,  and  she  did  attain  considerable  notoriety.  We 
should  hardly  care  to  take  in  our  home  a  woman  whose 
only  recommendation  was  skilful  ballet-dancing.  However, 
my  ideas  may  belong  to  the  refinements  of  a  past  genera- 
tion. I  am  growing  old,  I  know;"  with  a  pathetic  little 
laugh  that  was  a  half  sigh. 

"I  shall  be  delighted!"  cried  Blanche.  "You  will  come 
with  us,  Harry.  You  would  not  go  last  night  — n 

A  sudden  paleness  and  pain  crossed  his  face,  much  to 
his  sister's  amazement. 

Could  he  see  her  first  in  the  presence  of  others?  Oh, 
what  cruel  things  had  his  grandmother  said  to  her?  Yet, 
if  they  took  up  kindly  relations  it  would  go  hard  indeed  if 
he  could  not  persuade  her  to  forget  that  shameful  inter- 
view, to  remember  that  he  had  loved  her  for  her  own  sweet 
self. 

A  week  had  wrought  a  wondrous  change  in  Queenie  — 
or  was  it  her  new  position  ?  Of  the  fortune  she  was  still 
in  ignorance.  Something  about  her  chilled  him  with  swift 
apprehension :  the  cordiality  with  which  she  accepted  the 
relationship,  as  if  she  wished  that  to  make  amends. 

Mrs.  Grenville  was  a  soft,  pleasant  woman,  with  no  cor- 
ners or  angles,  inheriting  neither  her  mother's  beauty  nor 
that  startling  individuality.  Queenie  was  attracted  by  the 
very  unlikeness.  The  girls  were  fond  and  cousinly. 
Blanche  was  prepared  to  accept  any  favorite  of  her  lover's 
family ;  but  Queenie's  winsome  beauty  would  have  con- 
quered stronger  obstacles. 

Mrs.  Byington  promised  readily  that  she  would  afford 
them  frequent  opportunities  of  meeting.  For  the  present, 
she  and  Mr.  Byington  considered  their  claim  was  the 
strongest;  indeed,  they  felt  answerable  to  her  father,  to 


456  LOST  IN   A  GREAT   CITY. 

whom  the  joyful  tidings  had  been  sent,  and  who  would,  no 
doubt,  hasten  to  America. 

Once  Harry  managed  to  whisper,  "  I  shall  write  to  you," 
but  he  felt  that  it  would  be  ungenerous  to  ask  a  private 
interview. 

There  came  a  few  days  of  comparative  quiet  to  Queenie, 
for  which  she  was  deeply  grateful.  Roger  never  tired  nor 
exhausted  her.  He  planned,  and  she  acquiesced.  He  con- 
stituted himself  her  music  teacher,  and  they  learned  duets, 
they  read,  they  sat  with  aunt  Alice,  and  talked  in  a  joyous 
unconstrained  manner,  though  she  rarely  spoke  of  her  past. 

Was  it  wrong  or  selfish  to  throw  them  so  much  together  ? 
Mrs.  Byington  asked  herself. 

Harry's  missive  came,  a  wild,  imploring  love-letter.  The 
young  girl  read  it  with  crimson  cheeks  and  throbbing 
pulses.  Oh,  what  should  she  do  ?  He  had  loved  her  so 
generously  when  there  was  no  one  else,  when  she  was  a 
stage-dancer,  living  in  an  obscure  home,  would  it  not  be 
blackest  ingratitude  to  refuse  him  now  ? 

"What  can  I  say?"  she  asked  Mrs.  Byington,  with 
passionate,  yearning  anguish. 

"  I  think,  my  darling,  that  you  have  no  right  to  dispose 
of  your  future  until  your  father  is  here  to  sanction  it.  You 
may  come  to  understand  your  own  heart  better,  and  feel 
quite  differently.  At  present,  gratitude  is  the  strongest," 
and  Mrs.  Byington  flushed  a  trifle,  as  she  hesitated.  Was 
she  entirely  sincere !  Did  not  her  heart  incline  to  Roger  ? 

"At  least,"  she  resumed,  after  a  pause,  "I  would  beg 
him  not  to  discuss  the  matter  until  your  father's  return. 
You  belong  to  him,  first  of  all." 

That  was  the  only  shadow  on  Queenie's  happy  summer. 
Captain  Mullins  came  home,  and  there  was  the  wildest  joy 
in  the  household.  Queenie  went  for  a  whole  long  day, 
and  the  children  sent  Roger  an  invitation  to  supper.  What 
a  merry,  boisterous  time  it  was!  Every  child  seemed  to 
have  stored  up  a  special  remembrance  of  what  Queenie  had 
said  or  done  in  the  dark  nicrht  of  their  sorrow. 


MADAME  GRENVILLE'S  LAST  STAKE.  457 

"I  don't  know  what  I  can  ever  do  for  you,"  said  Captain 
Mullins,  with  tears  in  his  honest  eyes.  "  If  you'd  been  an 
angel  you  couldn't  have  brought  'em  into  port  any  bette- 
and  they  must  love  you  always  and  forever.  The  good 
Lord  reward  you  —  " 

"  He  has,  already,"  replied  Queenie,  reverently. 

"The  children  are  all  so  improved.  I  never  saw  the 
beat  of  it.  Why,  Tip's  a  real  gentleman,  and  he  says  it's 
all  owing  to  you.  Cissy's  growing  pretty  as  a  picture,  and 
as  for  the  twins,  any  man  might  be  proud  of  'em !  How 
you  and  sister  Madeira  managed  it  puzzles  me.  I  am  glad 
enough  your  ship  came  in,  though  if  it  hadn't  you'd  never 
be  let  to  want  for  anything.  God  bless  you  child  Yc't 
deserve  the  very  best,  and  may  it  always  be  yours." 

Miss  Madeira  laughed,  and  cried,  and  grew  more  in- 
coherent and  mismatched  with  every  sentence. 

"  It's  all  right,  thank  the  Lord !  "  she  said,  at  parting, 
"  but  I  don't  know  how  to  live  without  you.  I'm  a  foolish 
old  body,  sure  enough !  " 

Queenie  followed  up  her  good  work  by  interesting  Mr. 
Byington  in  Tip.  The  boy  had  corne  to  manly  wants  ind 
aspirations,  and  this  kindly  helping  hand  was  the  founla- 
tion  of  all  his  after  fortune  and  success. 

Tim  Chafney  called  upon  Queenie,  when  the  joyful  news 
reached  him.  His  surprise  was  absolutely  laughable.  He 
could  only  think  of  the  little  Nora  who  had  clung  to  him, 
but  this  exquisitely  beautiful  girl  astounded  him.  Still,  no 
one  rejoiced  more  truly  in  her  restoration. 

They  took  the  promised  trip  to  Newport.  Queenie 
shyly  sheltered  herself  under  Mrs.  Byington's  wing,  but 
her  beauty  would  have  been  remarked  anywhere.  Madamo 
Grenville  introduced  her  with  great  empressement^  quite  de- 
termined to  make  amends  for  her  former  neglect.  It  be- 
came whispered  about  that  the  young  girl's  father  was  a 
baron,  and  in  spite  of  herself  Queenie  again  played  thf 
part  of  heroine  unconsciously. 


458  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

Early  in  September  the  Grenvilles  were  to  return  South, 
Lucia's  marriage  was  appointed  for  October.  Lawrence 
plead  for  a  union  at  the  same  time.  The  engagement  had 
been  brief,  to  be  sure,  but  Mrs.  Byington  was  impatient  to 
welcome  Blanche  in  her  own  household,  the  long-coveted 
daughter. 

Mr.  Grenville  preferred  that  it  should  be  so,  and  the 
elder  ladies  acquiesced.  He  had  arranged  with  Harry  that 
generous  bridal  portions  should  be  bestowed  upon  his 
sisters,  and  Grenville,  the  family  birthright,  go  to  him. 

"  You  are  to  be  my  bridesmaid,  Queenie,"  announced 
Blanche,  "  you  and  Harry;  we  have  it  all  planned.  You 
are  to  come  to  Grenville,  it  is  such  a  beautiful  old  place. 
And  some  of  the  neighbors  remember  your  mother  so  well. 
Oh,  my  darling  Queenie,  I  am  so  glad  that  your  father  is 
alive,  and  an  honorable  gentleman,  so  that  your  mother's 
memory  will  be  rescued  from  the  cloud  under  which  it  has 
rested.  It  was  cruel  in  grandpapa  to  disown  her." 

"  But  he  is  so  sorry  now,"  pleaded  Queenie,  generously. 

Roger  Lasselle  was  startled,  one  day,  when  the  situation 
flashed  upon  him !  Harry  Grenville  adored  his  cousin,  and 
she  — 

He  would  have  plunged  into  an  explanation  at  once,  but 
aunt  Alice  wisely  restrained  him.  Perhaps  it  would  not 
have  been  in  her  power  but  for  the  admission  of  Queenie's 
feelings  on  the  subject. 

"  It  would  be  unmanly  to  speak,"  he  allowed.  "  But  if 
I  should  lose  her !  Oh,  aunt  Alice,  she  belongs  to  me,  she 
is  part  of  my  very  soul  1  " 

"  She  belongs  to  her  father,  Roger ;  n  yet,  Mrs.  Byington 
hoped  as  ardently  as  her  nephew. 

This  was  the  one  bitter  flavor  in  the  cup  of  joy,  alas ! 
that  it  should  be  said  of  so  many  precious  things.  Harry 
Was  miserable  and  jealous.  Roger's  happy  face  and  joyous 
voice  was  a  continual  torment.  She  quietly  avoided  tete 
a  tetes  with  him,  while  she  went  to  Roger  with  a  half  shy 
tmreserve  that  rnadd  oned  him. 


MADAME  GRENVILLE'S  LAST  STAKE.  459 

Madame  Grenville  watched.  She  was  too  wise  to  rouse 
Queenie's  suspicions  by  any  vehement  protestations  or 
caresses,  but  drew  her  near  with  a  subtile  fascination  that 
rarely  failed  when  she  willed  to  succeed.  She  had  not 
given  up  hope.  Let  her  have  Queenie  in  their  own  home, 
away  from  the  Byington's,  when  the  announcement  of  the 
fortune  came  to  be  made,  and  surely  she  could  not  have 
the  cruelty  to  despoil  Harry,  who  would  have  married  her 
in  obscurity.  Her  grateful  nature  would  prove  their 
strongest  ally. 

The  proud  old  woman's  bitterest  pang  was  her  grand- 
son's suffering,  when,  but  for  her  hasty  interference,  he 
might  have  had  all  in  his  own  hands.  She  could  have 
doomed  Queenie  to  a  life  of  poverty  and  temptation,  with- 
out a  scruple  of  remorse,  torn  out  that  tender  love-dream, 
and  flung  it  on  the  dreary  plains  of  desertion  to  die  un- 
pitied.  She  should  always  hate  the  child,  she  felt,  and  yet 
she  would  fain  move  heaven  and  earth  to  make  her  the 
wife  of  her  idol  grandson,  the  last  Grenville. 

They  parted  cordially  on  both  sides,  except,  perhaps,  the 
rival  young  men.  Queenie  had  steadfastly  refused  to  dis- 
cuss the  subject  until  her  father's  return.  Her  regard  was 
a  sister's  tenderness,  rather  than  the  absorbing  affection 
that  leads  to  a  wife's  love. 

The  Byingtons  went  to  Canada,  and  the  lakes,  as  the 
best  way  of  diverting  Queenie.  Oh,  what  a  glorious  thing 
it  was  to  live  when  one  was  no  longer  a  slave !  And  yet, 
if  Dick  Bridger  could  come  back  and  see  his  little  Queen 
for  one  brief  moment !  That  part  of  her  past  seemed  to 
stand  out  so  vividly. 


460  LOST  IN  A  GREAT   CITT. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIIL 

QUKEN     OF     HIS     HEART. 

BARON  WALDEBUEGH  had  come. 

Queenie  had  been  clasped  to  a  father's  heart  in  a  trans- 
port  of  joy,  kissed  by  the  lips  that  had  been  first  to  press 
her's  in  their  baby  sweetness,  and  that  more  than  ten  long 
years  before  had  touched  them  with  a  sorrowing  farewell. 

Her  wonder  presently  gave  way  to  a  deep,  delicious 
sense  of  intimate  relationship.  Here  was  some  one  all  her 
own,  who  had  known  and  loved  her  mother. 

She  ventured  to  look  at  him  shyly  after  a  while.  Not  so 
tall  as  Roger,  indeed,  barely  medium  height,  with  fair  hair, 
dreamy  blue  eyes,  a  tawny  beard,  and  an  indescribable 
foreign  air.  Here  she  had  caught  her  eager,  winsome 
grace,  but  in  her  the  impetuosity  had  been  toned  by  the 
repression  of  circumstances. 

"You  have  your  mother's  faultless  complexion,  my 
child,  and  certain  of  her  expressions,  but  that  eager,  ar- 
tistic temperament  came  from  the  Waldeburgh  side.  Ah, 
my  darling,  how  cruel  that  we  should  have  been  separated 
all  these  years !  Has  God  some  divine  compensation  in 
the  future  ?  Will  He  make  us  forget  the  pain  and  the 
pangs  ?  Surely,  my  precious  child,  the  rest  of  your  life 
oaght  to  be  like  a  rare  poem  set  to  music." 

It  seemed  as  if  he  would  never  tire  of  clasping  her  in 
his  arms  and  pouring  out  the  rapture  of  love.  They  were 
like  children  together,  his  vivid  imagination,  sanguine  tern- 
perament,  and  nervous,  poetic  grace  still  holding  the  charm 
of  youth.  Even  Roger  waived  his  imperious  claim,  and 
enjoyed  her  wonderful  happiness. 


QUEEN   OP    HIS   HEART.  46/ 

Mr.  Grenville  indited  a  courteous  letter  to  his  son-in 
law,  expressing  his  most  poignant  regret  for  the  past,  and 
begging  him  to  visit  Grenville  Place,  where  a  fortune 
awaited  his  child.  As  her  natural  guardian  he  must  make 
some  provision  concerning  it. 

Queenie  heard  it  then  for  the  first  time. 

"  Of  course  we  must  go,  papa,"  she  said,  in  a  gravely 
sweet  tone.  "  But  oh,  I  wish  there  was  no  fortune  !  I 
should  hate  to  take  it  from  them,  and  since  poor  mamma 
is  dead  —  " 

"  Ah,  if  it  could  have  come  earlier ! "  and  the  response 
was  like  a  wail. 

Victor  Waldeburgh  contrasted  his  present  welcome  with 
the  years  of  silent  neglect  that  had  helped  to  send  his 
wife  to  her  early  grave.  He  accepted  their  overtures  with 
the  dignity  of  a  breeding  quite  equal  to  theirs,  but  he 
could  not  forget.  As  an  exile,  and  poor,  would  they  thus 
have  honored  him  ?  Yet  he  felt  a  strange,  secret  sym- 
pathy with  the  broken  old  man  who  put  aside  the  preju- 
dices of  his  class,  and  earnestly  strove  to  make  amends. 

The  double  wedding  was  a  grand  affair,  the  pride  and 
talk  of  the  county,  and  Baron  Waldeburgh  and  his  daugh- 
ter contributed  no  little  to  its  prestige.  The  brides  started 
on  their  tour.  Lucia  was  to  return,  her  husband  being  a 
southerner,  but  Blanche  was  to  spend  the  winter  with  Mrs. 
Byington. 

And  now  Queenie  felt  sadly  out  of  her  element.  The 
influence  Madame  Grenville  had  counted  on,  began  to  do  its 
subtile  work.  Harry's  mother  was  unconsciously  swayed  by 
her  genuine  affection  and  the  sense  of  loss  she  experienced 
by  the  absence  of  her  daughters.  His  own  troubled,  half- 
reproachful,  face  pained  her  generous  soul.  Was  her  good 
fortune  to  work  ill  to  him  who  would  have  taken  her  from 
poverty  and  placed  her  on  a  throne  ? 

M  Papa,"  she  began  one  morning  —  "  is  there  no  other 
way?  Must  I  take  this  fortune?  Harry  will  be  so  much 


462  LOST  IN  A   GREAT  CITY. 

poorer,  and  he  has  been  brought  up  to  expect  it,  while  a 
attle  with  you  would  render  me  happy  ? 

Waldeburgh  enclosed  the  sweet  face  in  his  hands  and 
studied  the  troubled  eyes. 

"My  precious  darling,  tell  me  truly  if  you  love  the 
young  man,  if  you  would  like  to  marry  him  ?  " 

"  Oh,  papa  1"  and  with  a  sob  of  genuine  distress  the  tears 
overflowed. 

"  Queenie,  my  child,  you  do  not  love  him !  Shall  I  say 
selfishly  that  I  am  glad !  He  loves  you  truly,  but  he  has 
that  handsome,  evil  old  woman's  blood  in  his  veins.  He 
is  not  to  blame,  but  for  all  that  I  could  never  cordially 
take  him  to  my  heart.  Madame  has  done  me  the  honor  to 
suggest  the  match  —  but  I  am  answered  by  your  reluc- 
tance. I  have  enough  for  both.  We  will  go  away  some- 
where, and  when  you  are  of  age  you  may  divide  the 
fortune  —  " 

"  Oh,  can  I?  "  cried  the  child  joyfully.  "  You  take  such 
a  burden  off  my  soul,  dear,  sweet  papa !  And  I  am  a 
frightful  little  ignoramus, —  you  would  hardly  believe  it, 
because  I  can  dance  and  sing,  and  go  into  society  without 
blundering.  But  I  have  had  so  little  chance  for  real  study. 
And  you  might  teach  me.  I  would  be  so  industrious ; "  and 
the  lustrous,  wistful  eyes  were  turned  upon  him. 

tt  It  shall  be  so  my  daughter.  Their  money  or  regard 
cannot  give  back  to  us  the  dead.  The  fortune  can  be 
placed  in  the  hands  of  trustees  until  you  come  of  age.  I 
am  proud  to  have  you  relinquish  it,  though  I  am  not  rich 
enough  to  make  amends.  But  you  are  sure  you  do  not 
love  your  cousin  ?  " 

"  Quite  sure.  Oh,  is  it  wicked  ?  He  was  so  good  to 
me." 

"  No,  my  child,  no ; "  and  he  kissed  her  tenderly. 

The  Grenvilles  were  greatly  surprised  at  the  decision. 
The  matter  was  put  in  legal  shape,  Baron  Waldeburgh 
relinquishing  all  right  as  Queenie's  possible  heir.  The 


QUEEN   OP   HIS   HEART.  463 

haughty  Madame  insisted  to  her  daughter  that  it  was  no 
more  than  just. 

w  But  oh,  if  she  could  love  Harry  in  time  to  come ! " 
Jnoaned  Mrs.  Grenville.  "  His  heart  will  break." 

Grandmamma  smiled  derisively.  There  were  other 
pretty  girls  in  the  world.  The  fortune  was  what  she 
coveted,  and  so,  after  all,  she  was  satisfied. 

But  Harry  would  not  let  her  go  without  daring  his  fate. 
He  plead  with  rare  tenderness,  impetuousity,  and  the  truth 
of  a  loyal  heart.  Almost  she  was  tempted  to  sacrifice 
herself. 

**  Promise  me  this,  at  least,"  he  cried  in  despairing  eager- 
ness. "Wait  and  let  the  remembrance  of  that  hateful 
interview  die  out  of  your  mind.  Give  me  a  year  of  cous- 
inly regard,  with  no  rival  between.  Make  no  engage- 
ment—  " 

w  I  promise  to  remain  quite  free.  I  want  no  lover  but 
papa.  Surely,  I  owe  him  some  share  of  my  life,  when  we 
have  been  separated  so  long ! " 

Could  it  be  that  her  girlish  heart  was  untouched  ?  Was 
Roger's  regard  a  friendly  interest,  merely?  Well,  he  would 
wait  —  that  was  all  now  left  him. 

The  father  and  daughter  exchanged  a  kindly  farewell 
with  their  relatives.  There  was  a  brief  stay  at  New  York 
to  settle  a  few  plans.  Kate  Bridger  begged  to  accompany 
them  abroad.  She  cast  off  her  second  husband's  name, 
and  would  have  no  reminder  of  him.  Maggie  had  loved 
the  little  Miss  Nora,  but  she  could  not  quite  transform  her 
into  the  dazzling  Queenie,  a  father's  idolized  darling.  Be- 
sides, she  was  deeply  attached  to  Mrs.  Byington. 

For  Queenie,  the  strange,  checkered  life  was  at  an  end. 
One  could  predict  a  peaceful  future. 

Almost  two  years  have  passed  since  then.  It  is  summer 
again,  but  the  scene  is  a  pretty  Florentine  villa  with  ita 


464  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

luxuriant  grounds,  its  quaint,  old  world  beauty,  the  rich  hue 
of  vineyards  and  olive  orchards,  the  sparkle  of  wayside 
rills,  the  chime  of  tinkling  bells,  the  soft,  warm  dawns,  the 
mellow  noons,  the  slumbrous  shadows  of  eventide,  and  the 
fragrance  of  orange-blooms. 

She  seems  still  a  child,  this  sweet,  beguiling  Queenie, 
with  her  brown,  velvety,  pathetic  eyes,  her  shining  hair 
that  has  still  the  glint  of  childhood,  and  her  lissome,  petite 
figure.  But  as  you  study  her  you  find  an  indescribable 
alteration,  a  something  that  enhances  every  charm,  a  grace 
that  deepens,  transfixes,  fascinates.  Retired  as  they  have 
lived,  more  than  one  suitor  has  found  her  out,  and  besieged 
her  father  for  her  hand.  At  Milan  a  great  musician  was 
entranced  with  her  rarely  beautiful  voice,  and  was  fain  to 
persuade  her  into  fame  and  fortune. 

There  was  a  moment's  vision  of  the  eager  faces  that  had 
once  been  turned  upon  Queen  Titania ;  there  was  an  echo 
of  the  deafening  applause  as  the  weary  little  child  risked 
life  and  limb  for  the  gratification  of  the  multitude.  No, 
she  could  never  minister  to  that  gaping,  imperious  public 
again.  What  did  she  want  of  fame  now  ! 

Down  below,  just  at  the  edge  of  the  shady  walk,  are 
two  young  men,  familiar  faces  both,  but  the  expression 
they  wear  is  widely  different.  One  is  filled  with  exultant, 
absorbing  satisfaction,  that  cannot  be  wholly  veiled ;  the 
other  has  dared,  and  lost  the  most  precious  boon  life 
holds. 

w  Then  you  will  not  wait?  We  are  to  go  so  soon,"  says 
Roger  Lasselle,  trying  to  temper  his  tone. 

"  Wait  1  Ah,  do  you  think  I  can  endure  everything  ?  " 
is  the  unconsciously  fierce  rejoinder.  Then  the  voice  falls 
to  an  inflection  of  anguish.  "  You  have  been  a  noble  rival, 
Roger,  but  from  the  very  first  I  feared  you  held  all  in  your 
hands !  Perhaps  it  was  madness  to  hope,  to  try ;  but  I  loved 
her  so  1  If  you  had  not  crossed  her  path.  —  forgive,  but 


QUEEN   OF    HIS   HEART.  465 

mine,  too,  is  the  love  of  a  lifetime.  I  need  hardly  wish 
you  joy.  Queenie  Waldeburgh's  husband  will  not  need 
to  go  begging  for  that !  Good-by.  Sometime,  when  it  is 
an  old  story,  I  may  venture  to  remember  that  she  is  my 
cousin ; n  and  the  voice  is  choked  by  a  great  gasp  of  emo- 
tion. 

"Heaven  comfort  you!"  says  Roger,  huskily,  and  the 
fine  eyes  fill  with  tears.  He  has  won,  but  only  he  knows 
what  the  other  has  lost. 

Roger  walks  slowly  up  the  curved  path.  There  is  a 
flash  of  white  raiment,  and  a  hand  is  slipped  in  his.  He 
knows  she  has  been  crying,  and  now  he  does  not  even  kiss 
the  lovely  face.  This  hour  shall  be  sacred  to  memory. 
They  will  have  a  whole  long  life  for  their  joy. 

u  He  loved  me  so,"  she  murmurs  brokenly.  "  He  would 
have  married  me  fresh  from  the  stage,  in  all  my  poverty, 
I  can  never  forget  that ! " 

"  And  I  would  have  searched  the  world  through  for  you, 
Queenie,"  with  a  touch  of  tender  reproach.  "I  have  loved 
you  only  —  why,  I  do  believe  I  envied  Dick  Barretti 
when  he  clasped  you  in  his  arms.  And  if  you  had 
been  —  " 

**  Poor  Dick !  He  loved  me  too  1 "  she  interrupts,  with 
fresh  tears. 

w  And  everybody,"  says  Roger,  with  a  prodigal  construc- 
tion. M  You  were  born  with  an  enchantress'  gift,  and  I 
shall  hardly  consider  you  safe  until  you  are  chained  with  a 
wedding-ring.  And  I  do  hope,  if  I  had  not  been  in  the 
world,  that  you  would  have  loved  Harry." 

"  I  think  I  must  have,  Roger,"  she  answers,  with  the 
sweet  innocence  of  her  soul. 

Papa  Waldeburgh  sits  smoking  his  amber  pipe.     He  has 

learned  to  take  lovers  philosophically,  and  accepts  his  future 

son-in-law  gladly,  knowing  that  now  he  can  be  pestered 

by  no  more  suitors.    Queenie  has  planned  that  they  are  to 

30 


466  LOST   IN  A   GREAT  CITY. 

go  back  to  the  new  world  she  still  loves,  and  have  a  pretty 
half-country,  half-city  home,  with  a  studio  for  papa  and  a 
library  for  Roger. 

"And  my  room  just  between,"  she  says,  laughingly,  "so 
that  when  I  hear  a  heated  discussion  I  can  sally  out  and 
part  the  combatants,  and  temper  the  atmosphere." 

"Why,  I  like  Roger  myself  1"  says  papa,  with  great 
round  eyes. 

"  Then  it  is  I  who  will  be  torn  with  the  pangs  of  jealousy, 
and  consumed  by  slow  neglect;**  and  a  short,  delicious 
laugh  ripples  on  the  air. 

A  fortnight  later,  in  simple  white  and  orange  blooms, 
she  gives  her  hand  to  Roger.  Her  heart  has  been  his  since 
the  morning  he  told  the  story  of  his  search,  in  Miss  Ma- 
deira's stuffy  little  parlor. 

They  are  to  stop  a  while  in  London,  and  then  return 
home. 

There  have  been  some  changes  in  the  far-away  house- 
holds. Grandpapa  Grenville  is  dead,  and  Lucia  is  reigning 
in  her  own  home.  The  Madame  and  her  daughter  keep  wid- 
owed state  in  the  great,  solitary  house.  Harry  has  gone  on 
to  Egypt,  then  it  will  be  India.  The  stately,  still  handsome 
old  woman  knows  that  she  has  helped  to  mar  his  life, 
and  make  him  a  wanderer.  In  her  secret  heart  she  pines 
for  him,  and  understands,  too  late,  that  coveted  gold  does 
not  always  bring  peace. 

Blanche  and  Lawrence  are  very  happy  with  a  baby 
daughter  that  Mrs.  Byington  kisses  and  claims.  But 
whether  she  will  be  called  Elsinore  or  Titania  no  one 
seems  able  to  decide. 

Miss  Madeira  is  perhaps  the  most  astounded  at  her  des- 
tiny. She  is  Mrs.  Captain  Mullins.  Queenie  laughed 
heartily  over  the  letters  announcing  it. 

Moppet  wrote, — 

"We  just  planned  it  ourselves,  Queenie.  Don't  you 
remember  that  once  we  had  almost  a  fight  because  we 


QUEEN  OP  HIS  HEART.  467 

were  afraid  she  would  be  our  stepmother.  But  we  all 
loved  her  so,  and  we  wanted  her  to  be  our  mother  in  real 
earnest ;  and  we  talked  it  over,  all  but  the  twins,  I  mean, 
and  when  pa  came  home  I  asked  him  if  it  couldn't  be,  and 
he  laughed  a  little,  but  said  he'd  ask  auntie  Madeira.  She 
would  not  hear  of  it  at  first,  and  said  she  was  too  old,  and 
everything;  but  we  all  begged,  and  she  promised,  if  we 
would  go  on  calling  her  auntie  Madeira.  But  no  matter, 
she's  our  own  darling,  loveliest  mother,  and  we're  happy 
as  crickets.  Pa  comes  home  every  fortnight.  Tip  is  get- 
ting eight  hundred  a  year :  think  of  it !  Pug  is  a  real 
good  boy.  We  call  him  Sidney  now,  and  his  nose  isn't  so 
stubby.  I  have  a  beautiful  blue  silk  dress,  and  I  went  to 
a  real  party  with  Tip,  in  white  kid  gloves,  and  flowers  in 
my  hair,  and  I  wear  ear-rings." 

There  was  a  little  scrawl  from  auntie  Madeira : 
"  You'll  think  I'm  an  old  fool,  with  one  foot  in  the  grave, 
and  never  expecting  such  a  thing,  but  just  being  set  in  my 
ways  and  old-maidish  like,  with  a  thin  spoton  my  head  where 
the  hair  has  nearly  all  fallen  out,  and  I  have  to  wear  a  bit 
of  lace  and  ribbon  that's  no  more  like  a  cap  than  a  pink  silk 
sunshade  is  like  a  big  gingham  umbrella ;  and  me  never  fol- 
lowing any  fashions,  my  dear,  but  now  having  my  skirts 
trimmed,  and  walking  out  leaning  on  a  man's  arm,  as  if  I 
was  sixteen  and  sentimental,  and  all  red  in  the  face  and  flus- 
tered when  any  one  asks  for  Mrs.  Mullins,  as  if  poor  sister 
might  get  out  of  her  grave.  I  sometimes  wonder  what 
the  poor  dear  thinks,  and  if  she's  vexed ;  but  Fve  made  up 
my  mind  to  give  him  up  when  we  get  to  heaven,  her 
claim  being  first,  and  he  a  good,  kind-hearted  man,  who 
never  gives  his  children  a  cross  word,  though,  my  dear,  the 
old  Adam  is  still  strong  in  'em,  and  he  having  had  a  rough 
row  to  hoe,  and  deserves  that  some  one  should  care  for 
him,  and  lay  out  his  clothes  with  buttons  and  strings  all 
right ;  and  I  never  could  see  how  they  manage  to  get  'era 
off  so ;  but  it»  the  ways  of  Providence  and  past  finding  out, 


468  LOST  IN  A  GREAT  CITY. 

but  just  sewing  them  back  every  time.  I'm  sincerely  happy, 
and  trying  to  do  my  duty,  which  I  hope  isn't  wrong,  for  it 
does  seem  as  if  a  man  needed  a  wife  more  than  ever  when 
he's  lost  his  first  and  left  with  a  family,  and  twins  who'd 
never  know  the  difference ;  but  out  of  respect  to  sister  in 
her  grave  I  didn't  want  'em  to  call  me  mother ;  and  they've 
all  improved  so  you  wouldn't  know  'em,  Tip  being  a  real 
gentleman,  for  which  the  credit  is  due  you,  my  darling 
Queenie' 

Queenie  could  see  it  like  a  picture.  "And  I  suppose 
people  will  wonder  how  he  came  to  marry  that  plain  old 
woman,"  she  thought.  tt  They  cannot  see  her  quaint,  ten- 
der, generous  soul,  that  will  never  grow  old." 

Roger  listened  delightedly,  and  wondered  where  they 
weno  for  a  wedding-tour. 

Madame  Denzil  gains  in  fame,  and  is  a  favorite  in  attrac- 
tive society-plays.  Miss  Fay  has  married  quite  to  her  liking. 
Mam'selle  Zelie  is  at  the  head  of  a  flourishing  troop,  who 
have  made  burlesques  famous. 

Dainty,  delicately  clothed  in  purple  and  fine  linen,  sur- 
rounded on  every  side  by  love  and  luxury,  Mrs.  Roger  Las- 
eelle  wends  her  way. 

a  I  declare,  aunt  Alice,"  laughs  Roger,  "if  I  did  not  put 
my  foot  down  in  a  most  tyrannical  manner  she  would  turn 
the  house  into  an  orphan  asylum  and  hospital,  and  heaven 
only  knows  what  else.  It  is  lucky  that  Prince  Fortunatua 
fills  her  purse,  and  has  a  silver  mine  to  back  him. 

Queenie  smiles  out  of  soft,  bewildering,  brown  eyes. 
She  can  never  forget  what  she  has  seen  little  children  suf 
fer.  She  is  pitiful  to  their  sorrows,  and  is  made  glad  in 
their  joys. 


The  Potter  and  the  Clay 

A  Romance  of  To-day 

By  MAUD  HOWARD  PETERSON.  Bound  in  blue  doth, 
decorative  cover,  rough  edges,  gilt  top.  Four  drawings  by 
Charlotte  Harding.  Size,  5x7^.  Price  $1.50 


ONE  of  the  strongest  and  most  forceful  of  re- 
cent novels,  now  attracting  marked  attention, 
and  already  one  of  the  most  successful  books  of 
the  present  year.  The  characters  are  unique, 
the  plot  is  puzzling,  and  the  action  is  remarkably 
vivid.  Readers  and  critics  alike  pronounce  it  a 
romance  of  rare  strength  and  beauty.  The  scenes 
are  laid  in  America,  Scotland,  and  India ;  and  one 
of  the  most  thrilling  and  pathetic  chapters  in  re- 
cent fiction  is  found  in  Trevelyan's  heroic  self- 
sacrifice  during  the  heart-rending  epidemic  of 
cholera  in  the  latt  er  country.  The  story  through- 
out is  one  of  great  strength, 

Margaret  B.  Sangster:  "From  the  opening 
chapter,  which  tugs  at  the  heart,  to  the  close, 
when  we  read  through  tears,  the  charm  of  the 
book  never  flags.  It  is  not  for  one  season,  but 
of  abiding  human  interest." 

Minot  J.  Savage :  "  I  predict  for  the  book  a  very 
large  sale,  and  for  the  authoress  brilliant  work 
in  the  future." 

Boston  Journal  i  "  One  of  the  most  remarkable  books 
of  the  year.  Brilliant,  but  better  than  that, 

tender." 


Lothrop,  Lee  &  Shepard  Co.,  Boston 


Judith's  Garden 

By    MARY   E.  STONE    BASSETT 

With  illustrations  in  color  by  George  Wright.  Text  printed 
in  two  colors  throughout,  with  special  ornamentation. 
8vo,  light  green  silk  cloth,  rough  edges,  gilt  top,  $1.50 

A  N  exquisite,  delicious,  charming  book, 
•^^  as  fresh  as  new-mown  hay,  as  fragrant 
as  the  odor  from  the  garden  of  the  gods. 
It  is  the  story  of  a  garden,  a  woman,  and  a 
man.  The  woman  is  delicate  and  refined, 
witty,  and  interesting ;  the  man  is  Irish, 
funny,  original,  happy,  —  a  delicious  and 
perfect  foil  to  the  woman.  His  brogue  is 
stunning,  and  his  wit  infectious  and  fetching. 
The  garden  is  quite  all  right.  There  is  move- 
ment in  the  book ;  life  is  abundant,  and  it 
attracts.  It  will  catch  the  interest  of  every 
lover  of  flowers,  —  and  their  name  is  legion, 
—  and  will  delight  and  comfort  every  reader. 

Lothrop,  Lee  &  Shepard  Co.,  Boston 


Cbe  Cittic  Cfreen  Door 

By    MART    E.    STONE    BASSETT 

Eight   illustrations   by  Louise    Clarke    and    twenty-five  decorative 

half-tide  pages   by  Ethel  Pcarce   dementi 

I  zmo   Cloth   $1.50 

A  charming  romance  of  the  time  of 
Louis  XIII.  The  door  which 
gives  the  title  to  the  book  leads  to  a 
beautiful  retired  garden  belonging  to  the 
King.  In  this  garden  is  developed  one  of 
the  sweetest  and  tenderest  romances  ever 
told.  The  tone  of  the  book  is  singularly 
pure  and  elevated,  although  its  power  is 
intense. 


"This  is  a  tale  of  limpid  purity  and  sweetness,  which,  although 
its  action  is  developed  amid  the  intrigues  and  deceptions  of  a  corrupt 
French  court,  remains  fine  and  delicate  to  the  end.  There  is 
power  as  well  as  poetry  in  the  little  romance,  so  delicate  in  con- 
ception."— Chicago  Daily  News. 

"Tender,  sweet,  passionate,  pure;  a  lily  from  the  garden  of 
loves." — Baltimore  Herald. 

"The  story  is  exquisitely  pure  and  tender,  possessing  a  finished 
daintiness  that  will  charm  all  clean-minded  persons." — Louisville 
Courier-Journal. 

"This  book  carries  with  it  all  the  exhilaration  of  a  beautiful 
nature,  of  flowers,  birds,  and  living  things,  and  the  beauty  of  a 
winsome  personality  of  a  pure,  beautiful  girl.  It  is  a  romance  en- 
tirely of  the  fancy,  but  a  refreshing  one." — Chicago  Tribune. 

"The  little  romance  is  charmingly  wrought,  and  will  be  sure  to 
find  its  way  to  the  heart  of  the  reader." — Boston  Transcript. 

Lothrop,  Lee  &  Shepard  Co. 

BOSTON 


MISS     BILLY 

A      NEIGHBORHOOD       STORY 

By   EDITH    K.    STOKELY   and    MARIAN    K.    HURD 

Illustrated  by   CHARLES   COPELAND 

I2mo   Cloth    1.50 


"VfISS  BILLY"  deserves  more  than  passing 
notice  in  these  days  of  civic  improvement. 
It  is  a  story  of  what  an  irrepressible  young  woman 
accomplished  in  the  neighborhood  into  which  her 
family  felt  obliged  to  move  for  financial  reasons. 
The  street  was  almost  as  unpromising  as  the  celebrated 
"  Cabbage  Patch."  and  its  characters  equally  inter- 
esting and  original.  The  happy  common-sense  of 
Miss  Billy  and  the  quaint  sayings  and  doings  of 
her  new  neighbors  form  a  capital  story. 

"The  story  abounds  in  humor  with  a  hint  of  tears  and  an  over- 
flowing kindness  of  heart  bubbling  over  in  infectious  gayety." 

—  Boston  Herald. 

"The   book   is  sure   to   have   an  immense  number  of  readers." 

—  St.  Louis  Star. 

"The  plan  of  the  tale  is  original,  the  conversation  very  bright  and 
witty,    the    style   smooth,  and   the  characters  true  to  life." 

—  Boston   Transcript. 

"It  is  a  human  interest  story  which  appeals  to  the  heart,  and  at 
one  juncture  to  the  eyes  of  the  sympathetic  readers." 

—  Pittsburg  Chronicle    Telegraph. 

"  'Miss  Billy'  is  a  charmingly  bright,  clever  little  story,  full  of 
spontaneous  humor  and  frankly  inspirational." 

—  Chicago  Daily  News. 

"This  is  an  ideal  story."  —  N.    Y.    Times. 

Cotbrop,  Ece  $  Sbcpard  go.  «  «  Boston 


A  Carolina    Cavalier 

A     Romance  of  the  Carolinas 

By  GEORGE  GARY  EGGLESTON 

Bound  in  red  silk  cloth,  illustrated  cover,  gilt  top,  rough  edges. 
Six  drawings  by  C.  D.  Wliams.    Size,  5x7%.    Price  $L50 

A  strong,  delightful  romance  of  Revolu- 
•**•  tionary  days,  most  characteristic  of  its 
vigorous  author,  George  Gary  Eggleston. 
The  story  is  founded  on  absolute  happenings 
and  certain  old  papers  of  the  historic  Rut- 
ledges  of  Carolina.  As  a  love  story,  it  is 
sweet  and  true  ;  and  as  a  patriotic  novel  it  is 
grand  and  inspiring.  The  historic  setting, 
and  the  fact  that  it  is  distinctively  and  enthu- 
siastically American,  have  combined  to  win 
instant  success  for  the  book. 

Louisville  Courier  Journal:  "A  fine  Story  of  ad- 
venture,  teeming  with  life  and  aglow 
with  color." 

Cleveland  World:  "  There  is  action,  plot,  and 
fire.  Love  and  valor  and  loyalty  play  a 
part  that  enhances  one's  respect  for 
human  nature." 

Baltimore  Sun :  "  The  story  is  full  of  move- 
ment. It  is  replete  with  ad  venture.  It  is 
saturated  with  love. 

Lothrop,  Lee  &  Shepard  Co.,  Boston 


The  Lions  of  the   Lord 

By  HARRY   LEON  WILSON 

Author  of  "  The  Spenders."  Six  illustrations  by  Rose  Cecil 
O'Neill,  bound  in  dark  green  cloth,  illustrated  cover,  i2mo. 
#'.50,  postpaid. 

In  his  romance  of  the  old  West,  "  The  Lions  of  the  Lord," 
Mr.  Wilson,  whose  "  The  Spenders  "  is  one  of  the  successes 
of  the  present  year,  shows  an  advance  in  strength  and  grasp 
both  in  art  and  life.  It  is  a  thrilling  tale  of  the  Mormon  set- 
tlement of  Salt  Lake  City,  with  all  its  grotesque  comedy, 
grim  tragedy,  and  import  to  American  civilization.  The 
author's  feeling  for  the  Western  scenery  affords  him  an 
opportunity  for  many  graphic  pen  pictures,  and  he  is  equally 
strong  in  character  and  in  description.  For  the  first  time  in 
a  novel  is  the  tragi-comedy  of  the  Mormon  development 
adequately  set  forth.  Nothing  fresher  or  more  vital  has 
been  produced  by  a  native  novelist. 

The   Spenders 

By   HARRY   LEON   WILSON 
70th  Thousand 

Author  of  "  The  Lions  of  the  Lord."  Red  silk  cloth,  rough 
edges,  picture  cover.  Six  illustrations  by  Rose  Cecil 
O'Neill.  lamo.  #1.50,  postpaid. 

Mark  Twain  writes  to  the  author  I  "  It  cost  me  my  day 
yesterday.  You  owe  me  $400.  But  never  mind,  I  forgive 
you  for  the  book's  sake." 

Louisville  Courier-Journal  says :  "  If  there  is  such  a  thing 
as  the  American  novel  of  a  new  method,  this  is  one.  Abso- 
lutely to  be  enjoyed  is  it  from  the  first  page  to  the  last." 

Harry  Thurston  Peck,  in  the  New  York  American,  says : 

"  The  very  best  two  books  written  by  Americans  during  the 
past  year  have  been  '  The  Spenders,'  by  Harry  Leon  Wilson, 
and  '  The  Pit,'  by  Frank  Norris." 

Lothrop,  Lee  &  Shepard  Co.,  Boston 


J.   Devlin --Boss 

A  Romance  of  American  Politics 

By  FRANCIS  CHURCHILL  WILLIAMS.    J2mo,  $J.50 


•*  I  ^HIS  is  a  story  of  the  typical  figure  in  the  shaping  of 
^  American  life.  "Jimmy,"  shrewd,  strong,  re- 
sourceful, clean-hearted,  is  vital ;  and  the  double  love  story 
which  is  woven  about  him  gives  an  absolutely  true  and 
near  view  of  the  American  boss.  The  revelations  of  politi- 
cal intrigue  —  from  the  governing  of  a  ward  to  the  upset- 
ting of  the  most  sensational  Presidential  Convention  which 
this  country  has  seen  —  are,  as  sketched  in  this  romance, 
of  intense  interest ;  the  scenes  and  characters  in  them  are 
almost  photographic.  But  above  all  of  these  stands  Jimmy 
himself,  unscrupulous  as  a  politician,  honorable  as  a  man 
—  Jimmy,  the  playmate,  the  counselor,  and  the  lover 
of  the  winsome,  clear- eyed  Kate,  the  stanch  friend  of 
herself  and  of  her  son — Jimmy,  with  a  straight  word 
always  for  those  who  are  true  to  him,  a  helping  hand 
for  all  who  need  it,  and  a  philosophy  which  is  irresistible. 


Lothrop,  Lee  &  Shepard  Co.,  Boston 


By  HAROLD  MORTON  KRAMER 
HEARTS  AND  THE  CROSS 

Illustrated  by  HAROLD  MATTHEWS  BRETT       $1.50 

HPHE  story  is  of  a  man  whose  vigorous  personality  enables  him  to  do 

J.      justice   to   himself   and   to  secure  justice  for  himself  under  most 

trying   conditions.      A  mysterious  wanderer,   he  wins  the  better 

element  of  a  somewhat  rough  community  by  his  eloquence  as  the  preacher 

in  a  neglected  parish,  meanwhile  working  in  the  fields  for  his  support. 

Lawlessness,   heroism,    and    noble  self-sacrifice  have  their  part  in  the 

development   of  an  intensely   dramatic   plot,  the  interest  of  which  is 

sustained  until  the  mystery  is  cleared  away,  and  a  satisfactory  conclusion 

is  reached  with  exceeding  joy  to  those  who  deserve  it. 

"There  is  no  slackening  of   interest,  no  chilling-  of  sympathy,   until    the 
•tery  surrounding  the  hero  is  cleared  away." — North  American,  Philadelphia. 

"The  book  takes  hold  of  the  reader  and  keeps  up  its  interest  to  the  end." 

— Boston  Transcript. 


my 


QAYLE  LANQFORD 

Being  the  Romance  of  a  Tory  Belle  and  a  Patriot  Captain 

Illustrated  by  H.  C.  EDWARDS     $1.50 

MR.  KRAMER  tells  a  romance  of  the   "times   that   tried    men's 
souls  "  in  a  way  that  will  permit  no  one  to  lay  it  aside  when  once 
he  has  begun  it.     Gayle  Langford,   the  heroine,   is  as  imperious 
and  unfathomable  as  she  is  beautiful,  and  her  patriot  lover  is  possessed 
of  audacity  beyond  the  common  lot  of  man,  else  there  could  be  no  story. 
The  time  is  that  of  the  Declaration  of  Independence,   with  most  of  the 
events  in  Philadelphia  and  Trenton.      Action  crowds  upon  action  from 
the  beginning  to  the  end  of  this  exceptionally  good  novel. 

"The  action  is  stirring,  the  dialogue  thrilling,  and  the  dramatic  situations 
hold  the  reader  to  the  last  chapler." — Boston   Traveller. 

"From^   beginning    to    end    it     is    filled    with     rapid     action;     dramatic 
climaxes;  brisk,  incisive  dialogue  and  excellent  character  drawing." 

— Boston  Courier. 

LOTHROP,   LEE  &  SHEPARD  CO. 

BOSTON 


Eagle    Blood 

By  JAMES  CREELMAN,  Author  of  "  On  the  Great  High- 
way." Six  Illustrations  by  Rose  Cecil  O'Neill.  Brown 
cloth,  illustrated  cover,  rough  edges.  Size,  5%  x  7&. 
Price,  $1.50. 


THIS  is  Mr.  Creelman's  great  novel,  although  as  a  brilliant 
writer  he  is  well  known  throughout  the  world.  His  war 
descriptions  and  diplomatic  interviews  display  exceptional 
powers.  His  story  introduces  an  Englishman  of  noble  family, 
who  comes  to  America  for  the  purpose  of  making  his  way,  not 
by  a  marriage  for  money,  but  by  his  own  ability.  Eagle  blood 
—  the  American  spirit  —  conquers  lion  blood  —  the  blood  of 
old  England.  He  is  Americanized  through  the  strong  influence 
of  a  Yankee  girl  who  is  depicted  as  the  ideal  type  of  American 
woman.  The  work  is  one  of  great  psychological  intensity,  full 
of  action,  tender  in  its  love  motif,  quick  and  varied  in  action. 

The  Christian  Herald  says : 

"  The  book  deals  with  the  present  day.  The  plot  is  an  origi- 
nal and  fascinating  one,  and  a  great  patriotic  lesson  to  Ameri- 
can men  and  women  slowly  emerges  into  view.  It  is  refreshing 
to  find  an  American  girl  in  modern  literature  who  realizes  what 
America  has  done  for  woman.  The  story  is  lit  with  flashes  of 
humor  and  satire.  It  is  a  strong  book  written  in  Mr.  Creel- 
man's condensed  and  vigorously  fresh  style,  without  a  super- 
fluous word  or  dull  line." 

New  York  Journal  says : 

"'Eagle  Blood'  is  one  of  the  best  and  most  convincing 
romances  given  to  the  public  in  many  a  day.  It  is  not  a  tale 
of  colonial  times  or  of  border  life,  but  a  clean,  thrilling  story 
of  to-day. 


Lothrop,  Lee  &  Shepard  Co.,  Boston 


HELEN   GRANT   SERIES 

By  AMANDA  M.   DOUGLAS 
Illustrated  by  AMY  BROOKS     doth     Price  per  volume  $1.25 


AfttKDi  HDOUCUS 


Helen  Grant's  Schooldays 
Helen  Grant's  Friends 
Helen  Grant  at  Aldred  House 
Helen  Grant  in  College 
Helen  Grant,  Senior 
Helen  Grant,  Graduate 
Helen  Grant,  Teacher 
Helen  Grant's  Decision 
Helen  Grant's  Harvest  Year 


HELEN  GRANT  and  her  friends  represent  the  best  type  of  college 
girls,   those   of  the   highest  aims   and  ideals,   and  she   herself 
develops    to    admiration    in   each   successive    phase   of   her  career.  — 
Milwaukee  Free  Press. 

Helen  Grant  is  a  lovable  and  capable  American  girl,  and  the  young 
people  who  follow  her  experiences  as  depicted  by  Miss  Douglas  are  sure 
to  be  the  better  for  it. — Herald  and  Presbyter. 

Miss  Douglas  has  had  long  experience  in  writing  books  for  girls. 
Into  her  stories  she  puts  the  influence  of  high  ideals,  remembering  all  the 
time  that  girls  are  not  to  be  deprived  of  their  good  times,  but  that  play 
and  earnest  endeavor  contribute  each  a  share  to  the  making  of  womanly 
character. —  Christian  Register. 

In  "  Helen  Grant,"  Miss  Douglas  has 
created  a  splendid  type  of  American  girlhood, 
strong,  energetic,  intelligent,  and  winsome. 
Her  progress  under  difficulties,  and  her  unusual 
power  to  win  and  keep  friends,  have  delighted 
her  readers.  —  Chicago  Advance. 


For  sale  by   all  booksellers   or    sent    postpaid   on 
receipt  of  price  by  the  publishers 

LOTHROP,  LEE  &  SHEPARD  CO., 
BOSTON 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


